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January 1917 









Ralph Dougall, "Missing", June 3, 1916 3 

Lillie Dougall, 1884 

A Royal Funeral 4 

' Elizabeth Holmes, C. P. 1918 

A Romance of the Woods 6 

Margaret Van Voorhis, 1918 

A Winter Day 8 

Katherine Pinckney, 1918 

On the Pacific 9 

Tsing Ling Li, 1918 

Betty's Awakening 10 

Lucy Atwood, 1917 

Kittens at Play 13 

Elizabeth Bacon, 1917 

An Incident of My Childhood 14 

Katherine Chen, 1918 

A Mistake in Identity 16 

Grace Prescott, 1920 

Jerry " . 't /ffc 

Mary Shipman, 1920 

The Lady in the Picture 18 

Sally Humason, C. P. 1917 

One Day Last Week 22 

Bernice Boutwell, 1917 

Reflections 23 

Gwendolyn Brooks, 1918 

Editorials 24 

School Journal 32 

Alumnae Notes 39 

The price of the Courant is one dollar a year: single copies fifty cents. 
All communications made to the Business Editors will be promptly attended to. 



Voarb of E&ttore 

Ctlrrarg Ehttora 






Vol. XUII 

JANUARY, 1917 

No. 1 

Kalpt) £)ougall, "TXlissinq,," 3une 3, 19\6 

You left our trenches at the break of- day, 
True-hearted — you who never turned aside 
To praise the great or batten on their pride, 

But sought, like God, perfection in the play 

Of unobtrusive things. You went away 

When that lost land where truth may not abide 
Was lit with dawn upon the farther side — 

A gleam athwart its murk and foul decay. 

" Wounded and lost to sight" — no more they tell; 
But we who know what honesty was yours, 
What clear-eyed blindness to life's vulgar lures, 

Know that you reached, beyond the blasts of hell, 

The summer day, and that, whate'er befell, 
God's light for you increases and endures. 

Lillie Dougall, 1884 

Cumnor, Oxford, 

New Year's Day, 1917 

Ci Hoyaf funeral 

The last Sunday in June, 1914, we came down from the 
peaceful mountains into Austria's great capital, Vienna, and 
found that city, usually overflowing with life and flashing colors 
and joyful music, now grieving and angry, its palaces and build- 
ings draped with black, its flags lowered, an ominous silence pre- 
vailing. What had happened? The Archduke Francis Ferdi- 
nand, heir-apparent to the Austrian throne, and his wife, the 
Duchess of Hohenberg, had been assassinated in Serbia, and the 
countries were in an uproar. 

Thursday evening, we joined the crowds in the Ring-strasse 
and waited for the funeral procession to pass by on its way from 
the railroad to the royal palace. The hours of waiting seemed 
endless, the mobs were excited, angry, furious; there was nothing 
to relieve the awful tension that hung like a pall over the city. 
Did this mean war? War! The mutterings grew high, the sol- 
diers had trouble enforcing order. But there — far down the 
avenue came the roll of drums, the tramping of many feet. The 
people struggled once more for the best places of observation, 
and then, as the procession came into view they eased their 
fighting, they were so still it seemed as if they had been turned to 
stone. With hats removed and wet faces, thousands of men 
stood silently paying their last respects to the late heir-apparent 
and his beloved wife. 

The torch bearers cast a glow over the street and lighted the 
way for the great war-horses directly behind, in their splendid 
trappings and plumes. And then followed hundreds of soldiers 
of the royal guard. Amid a silence disturbed only by the muffled 
roll of the drums and the sound of marching feet upon hard pave- 
ment came the two hearses, each drawn by eight coal-black 
horses and surrounded by bodyguards. Not a sound from the 
crowds — except, now and then, uncontrolled sobs — and the moon 
and the stars looked quietly down upon the sorrowing people. 

The procession passed on. The people were held spell- 
bound a moment by the impressive sight and then pandemon- 
ium broke loose. Peaceful citizens feared for their lives among 
the unruly crowd and hastened to their homes. 



The next morning we arose early for we had heard that the 
public might go to the chapel during the last services for the de- 
ceased in Vienna. The doors were to be opened at eight o'clock. 
We had been warned that if we did not get there early we should 
not get in at all; consequently it was six o'clock that morning 
when we reached Holburg. We found a crowd — a long line of 
people, six abreast — waiting outside the chapel for admittance. 
The line already was six blocks long and we felt rather discour- 
aged by the prospect as we placed ourselves at the end of it. We 
were amazed to find that within fifteen minutes there was an- 
other line behind us, stretching back for a block and a half and 
that more people were adding themselves to it every minute. 
On either side of us was a line of soldiers with guns in their 
hands ready for use. It was rather disconcerting to stand for 
hours before such soldiers as these. They looked ready to fire 
upon one if he made the slightest move. 

At eight o'clock the doors were opened and the line began to 
move. At the entrance to the courtyard the people had to enter 
in single file and this delayed matters somewhat, so it was ten 
o'clock by the time we reached the place. We passed quickly 
through the courtyard and up a private staircase into the Hof- 
burg. There seemed to be soldiers on every side of us and we 
were conducted by them through several rooms until we reached 
the chapel — our destination. 

The walls of the chapel were covered with the most beautiful 
flowers to be had and the whole room was a mass of loveliness. 
On three sides of the room were altars, and here priests in richly 
colored robes were saying mass. At the back of the room were a 
few seats, and here sat members of the royal family, and other 
noble persons. But that to which all eyes- were turned was in the 
center of the room. On a raised dais of white velvet, stood the 
two coffins, side by side. Over them and around them on the 
dias were scattered the royal jewels. There were crowns and 
rings and stars and beautiful swords and many other ornaments 
made of stones of the finest water; they flashed and sparkled as 
they lay there carelessly. They were not unguarded, however. 
Around the dais were stationed the Austrian bodyguards, famous 
the world over. They were over six feet tall and stood looking 



straight before them. The sun, stealing through some small 
windows above the front altar, gleamed on their drawn sabers and 
on their-tiger skins, thrown gracefully over their broad shouders. 

Awe-struck, the people passed in a single line around the 
room and out into the other rooms. We went into the front 
courtyard this time and it seemed good to be in the bright 

Elizabeth Holmes, C. P. 1918 

Ct Romance of tfye IDoobs 

The chargers stamp impatiently, 
The greyhounds leap and bark, 
The good king goes upon a hunt, 
And fain would make a start. 

At eve with trophies of the chase, 
The king and his men stood 
In silence, by a small, clear brook 
That babbled through the wood. 

The peaceful calm of parting day, 
The reverie of them all 
Was broken by a rare sweet song 
Which on their ears did fall. 

As they with baited breath did wait, 
The bushes moved apart 
And showed the spirit of the wood 
Which captured the king's heart. 

A maid with tumbled, nut-brown hair, 
And cheeks pink as the rose, 
Her lips shaped like a Cupid's bow, 
Stood clad in ragged clothes. 



"Your voice thrills with the truth of life; 

Your charm is not of art." 
" I am the spirit of the woods, 

My song from out my heart." 

"I've found you now, my queen of love." 
He put her on his steed. 
Together they two rode away, 
Though she with him did plead. 

She had rich robes bedecked with pearls, 
Maids numbering twenty-three. 
She did not know this kind of life, 
And ill at ease was she. 

She tried to sing as in the wood, 
To make her husband gay, 
But found her voice a prisoned thing 
And sadly went away. 

Beside the brook there lay a dress, 
And in its depths a ring; 
Now one might hear again full oft 
The loosened spirit sing. 

Margaret Van Voorhis, 1918 

a IDtnter Day 

A winter day by the sea! The ocean lay comparatively 
quiet, with only a few choppy white-caps to break the monotony 
of the vast stretch of slate-colored water. A few gulls swept 
in wide circles over some intended prey, raising their note in a 
shriek as they suddenly dropped down into the water. Across 
the harbor the sound of the water incessantly breaking upon the 
sea wall came back again and again with a dull boom. The day 
goes on, and with it the sky begins to match the water. Soft 
grey and white clouds drift across the sky; the white clouds give 
way to the grey. The rocks turn into a dull purple-grey, as 
though by some magic power. The whole scene might well be 
termed a " study in grey " ! But no! Across the water a flash of 
white appears! The full set sails of a boat beating into shelter 
before the arrival of the fast approaching storm. Behind this, 
the flash of another set of sails, bound on the same errand. A 
sudden dead calm — the calm before the breaking of the storm, and 
then the storm itself. Not a howling north-east blow, with 
beating wind and breaking waves, but a quiet veil of whiteness 
extending from the heavens to the water, a blur of homlier objects, 
a softening of every thing into a white drifting cloud, which 
touched the water with a mist of oblivion. Thus on and 
on until an early darkness hides both earth and water, to await 
the arrival of a new day sparkling with the jewels of a vast 

Katherine Pinckney, 19 IS 

(Dn tt?c pacific 

As I was sailing over the expansive Pacific, some weeks 
ago, there happened an event which impressed me deeply. 
When we were about three days out from Shanghai, we reached 
Yokahoma. As soon as the boat was anchored, the Japanese 
came on board in search of Koreans. Unfortunately, there was 
one Korean girl on board. She dressed herself in Chinese cos- 
tume, but in some way or other the Japanese found this out. For 
two days they paced up and down, looking for this girl. But, 
providentially, she had two very kind and sympathetic cabin- 
mates. So these, with the aid of the cabin boy — hid her beneath 
her berth. They had great difficulty in expressing to her the 
trouble that had befallen her, for she understood neither Eng- 
lish nor Chinese. 

As all this was going on, I thought of poor Korea. What 
a wretched time she is experiencing — how difficult it will be for 
her to escape the despotic rule of Japan! Ought we — who still 
retain our own governments — not to be grateful? The Japanese, 
as I understand, had been trying to prevent the Koreans from 
being educated. Yet when we arrived at San Francisco, we 
found that there were quite a number of Koreans receiving 
their education at the University of California. In spite of the 
interference of the Japanese, these "faithful few" had the 
courage to come over to America. Their ambition is so great 
that their courage is strengthened by it. 

Why do the Japanese want the Koreans to be uneducated, 
ignorant people? Is this not simply to keep them subordinate to 
their rule? Tyranny — as we all know — does not help in making 
tributary nations submissive. They, in fear of despotism, may 
appear to be so; but in reality, in their hearts lies the flame of 
rebellion, or rather the motive to save their own country. The 
greater the oppression, likewise will the patriotism of the op- 
pressed be. It is not by pride nor by haughtiness that we win 
the hearts of men, but by love and good -will. 

Tsing Ling Li, 1918 

Betty's Ctmakentng 

"Oh, I can't wait to get home!" Betty informed herself ex- 
citedly. She settled herself comfortably in the big brown chair 
as the train pulled out of the station. 

"Just imagine going to a real dance! Why, I haven't been to 
one for ages — not since I've been cooped up in that school. 
And there's Mother and Dad! I'm just wild to see the dears! 
We'll all have such a wonderful time together. Of course there 
will be dances and parties evenings, but I can see Mother morn- 
ings and then I can run in to the office to see Dad any time I'm 
in town." 

She tried to content herself with the comforting thought, 
"They were young once, they'll understand." 

Yes, they would understand. But it would hurt. Many 
long evenings had those parents sat together in the cozy 
library, making plans for Betty, and looking forward, with the 
eagerness of their whole hearts, to the return of that young 
life which meant so much to them. They were confronting 
financial reverses. But Betty must not know — at least, not yet! 
Already two faithful servants had been dismissed and the hand 
of economy had tightened its grasp on the household purse- 

"Oh, you dear!" cried Betty as she alighted from the train 
steps. She rushed into the embrace of two big fatherly arms. 
"Weren't you a peach to come for me yourself! I'm so glad you 
didn't send John," she chattered as she climbed into the road- 
ster which awaited them. 

The man said nothing. A sad smile played on his once jolly 
lips. But Betty didn't notice. On and on she prattled until 
they stopped before the entrance of their beautiful suburban 

"It's awfully dark! Doesn't look as though anyone's 
home," she added. Just then the porch light shone. The 
door opened. "Hello Mother! I'm back," she called to the 
slender figure in the doorway. As she stooped to kiss those 
faded lips she might have seen the silver glisten among the 
dark locks of her hair — the man who stood beside them saw. 

betty's awakening 


"How are you, Katie?" she greeted the ancient cook with a 
friendly smile as she entered the dining-room. "Why, where's 

"Oh, Mary had to leave rather suddenly," returned her 
father after his usual jolly manner. "Katie's chief cook and 
bottle washer now, aren't you Katie?" he laughed. 

Katie grinned her approval and shuffled her way out. 

"Well, Girlie, we shall want some more of those gay stories 
this evening in the library, shan't we, Mother?" he said as he 
led them out of the dining room, one under each arm. 

"I'm sorry, Dad," Betty flushed. "But you see Jack's 
coming over this evening — and I look like the Dickens so I'll — " 

"Oh, yes, Miss Vanity, I meant to have had your mirror 
enlarged, but I declare I forgot all about it," he teased. 

Betty laughed, hugged them both and rushed up the broad 
stair case. 

The two watched her fleeting figure out of sight. Then they 
entered the library — that protecting harbor of all their hopes. 
Neither attempted to break the stillness of that silence for a 
long time. A lump of disappointment was in the throat of each. 
Finally when the silence was broken they talked of everything 
but the one thing that was nearest their hearts. 

"Good morning, Dad," greeted Betty from the doorway 
of the breakfast room the next morning. "Where's Mother?" 

The man looked up absently from the newspaper which was 
spread out at one side of his plate. 

"Oh, good morning, Betty," he answered, half mechani- 
cally. " Mother isn't feeling well. She won't be down till later." 

"I'm so sorry! But you and I can have breakfast together, 
can't we?" she added sweetly. 

"I'm afraid not, dear, I have to be off now to catch my 

"Why! So early! Can't John take you in later?" 
He had already left the room and Betty's questions remained 

"Oh dear," she sighed. "I thought I was starved — but I 
can't eat a thing. What's the matter? Everything seems so 
strange around here!" 



She left the table unmindful of where she went. Presently 
she stood in front of her Mother's door. She knocked. 

"Come in," came faintly from the depths of the bed within. 
Betty went softly in that direction and knelt down by its side. 

"What is it, Muddie? What is it?" she begged. 

The tired eyes closed — not too soon to hide the tears that 
were gathering there. "I can't talk now, dear," she whispered, 
" It will be all right— later." 

"Why, Muddie, you're ill! I'll call " and she rushed to 

the telephone. 

An hour later the family doctor came out from the sick 
room and gently closed the door behind him. Betty was anxious- 
ly waiting on the top stair. 

"She's very tired, Betty, and needs a long rest and good 

"Can't I do something to help, Dr. Mason? I don't know 
much about nursing," she added apologetically, "but " 

"You'll do," he broke in. He was an intimate friend of the 
family and understood the circumstances of it better than did 
its own daughter. 

For three long days and the greater part of as many nights, 
Betty watched by the bedside of the frail mother. She was 
learning the things she had refused to find in books. She was 
learning the sadness of sorrow and the true value of that life 
that seemed slipping away from her. She knew the real situation 
of her new circumstances. At length came a shade of improve- 
ment in her mother which grew slowly but surely, day by day. 

One evening, after her patient had gone to sleep, the tired 
little nurse slipped down the stairs and in through the library 

A man sat in a big leather chair by the open fire. Betty went 
to him and, putting her young arm around his tired shoulders, sat 
on the arm of his chair. His shoulders raised perceptibly as if 
part of their load had been lifted. For a long time they sat thus, 
gazing into the fire; each was thinking his own thoughts. For 
the first time, Betty stopped to wonder what the other girls had 
been doing in those long days which had been such a mental and 
physical strain on her. There was no regret in her thoughts. 

betty's awakening 


She could take back to school with her something new — that 
thoughtfulness for the comfort of others, which had never been 
awakened in her before. 

" It wasn't easy to gain, either," she added with a sigh. 

"What's the matter, Girlie?" Her father looked up ques- 
tioningly at this slight demonstration of feeling. ' ' Tired ?' ' 

"No, Dad, I'm just being glad," she breathed — "Glad 
that I've really begun to live!" 

The man tightened his grasp on the small hand that rested in 
his. He understood. 

Lucy Atwood, 1917 

Kittens at play 

One soft, small ball of grey hides 'neath the chair 
And with a glistening eye peeks out from there. 
No danger near? A paw put forth with care, 
A stealthy creeping out. Ah! but beware. 
Two other eyes are watching with an air 
Of craft. A ball of black does now prepare 
To pounce. A cuff, a hiss, a short, mad tear. 
Back, once again, to safety 'neath the chair 

Elizabeth Bacon, 1917 

Ctn 3tictbent of ITTy <£r/tl6fyoo6 

As I sit down to recall the things of my childhood everything 
seems to be in a dream, but there is one thing which I still re- 
member well and clearly as if it had happened at this very 
moment. I have told it over and over again, but I am very happy 
to tell it once more. 

One summer day Mother told me that we were all going to 
the woods that afternoon. Aunt and she bought many flowers, so 
I wondered what were we going to do, but I was so excited that 
I did not care to ask then. The flowers were a wonder to me that 

When we came to the forest, Father led us to a place where 
we had never gone before and when he stopped I saw there was a 
cottage and in front there were several monuments. As we ap- 
proached the place everyone was quiet and they planted the 
flowers around the graves. I did not understand what all the 
things meant, but I could wait until all was over, for something 
seemed to have stopped my childish curiosity. 

We sang several hymns and we sat down to talk. I could 
not keep my silence any longer so I asked, and they were all so 
kind and tried to explain to me. Aunt told me that when I was 
only a little more than a year old there was a great rebellion 
in the northern part of China, where Peking is situated. The 
rebels went about to seek for Christians and asked whether they 
believed in Christianity or not. If they did believe, they were 
killed, but if they swore against their faith they could save their 
lives, and many had yielded to the temptation. 

My grandfather was a pastor of a church not far north from 
Peking. During the rebellious time he and my grandmother and 
two of their children lived in a house near the church. All the 
Christians around that place came to ask for help and advice. 
He knew there was no other way, so he comforted them with the 
words of God. He wished to strengthen them a little, too. 
and asked them to hide themselves in the country place for some 
time. At last most of the people had gone, so he thought they 
ought to hide for several days until the rebels were quieted a 
little bit, so they started to go, but the rebels came to the door 
at the same time. 



The first question they asked was "Are you Christians?" 
"Yes, we are," was the brave answer. When the rebels saw that 
they were so brave they said, "We do not want to kill you, but 
if you still hold your foreign religion we can not help it. If you 
swear against religion we will let you free." But they received 
an answer saying, "What can you do to hurt us, for the Al- 
mighty One is our Lord, Saviour and Redeemer. It is better to 
follow God than man." Then the rebels took the youngest child 
and killed her to see if they would be tempted or not, but their 
faith was the firmer, so they all laid down their lives for their 
Saviour who died for them. God took them to heaven as I was 
told. And my father came to preach to the people who had 
killed his parents, brother and sister. 

At that time I could not keep my tears from running down, 
but I was so happy they had died for God that henceforth I have 
a wish to accomplish what they wanted to do. That is the 
message of invitation for everybody to the everlasting life. 
Since then I have not forgotten what was told to me and I am 
hoping all the time that I am doing a little of my wish. 

Katherine Chen, 1918 

CI 2TTistake in 3fcentity 

It had been cold all day and after the sun sank it was even 
colder. Dusk had settled over the land. There was no sound save 
the low moaning of the wind through the dead leaves of the 
trees. I was hurrying home, the milk-can clutched tightly in my 
right hand, a pat of butter in my left. As I walked swiftly along 
the lonely old road, I couldn't help thinking of all the awful 
ghost stories I had ever heard. My hair began to rise and I 
broke into a run. Of course Mother should have sent Jack. I 
thought. How I wished I were home. 

Before me were Carter's Woods, growing densely on either 
side of the road, and very thick and dark in the deep twilight. 
I ran faster, faster, till my feet scarcely touched the ground. 
Would that awful forest never end? All out of breath I stopped, 
for the woods had ended and father's broad fields stretched away 
into the darkness. Like a streak of lightning a shiver went up 
and down my spine. What was that coming toward me, that 
great, white thing, so silent, so ghost-like, so mysterious? Nearer, 
nearer it came. I tried to scream but in vain! Oh how long the 
seconds seemed! Yes I knew I had been naughty in school. I 
had talked back to Mother; oh yes, loads of things — but to 
come to this! Would something (I didn't seem to care just 
what) never happen? A low call reached my terrified ears, my 
heart skipped a beat and then — I laughed! Of course! I had 
forgotten all about poor Dolly in my rush for the milk. I had 
neglected to bring her in from the pasture, and she, getting tired 
of waiting, had wandered out into the lane. 

I slipped my hand into her silky mane and we walked 
home together, that great, lovable old horse, who wouldn't 
hurt a fly, and her foolish, trembling mistress. 

Grace Prescott, 1920 

One clear, frosty morning in October, I was walking in the 
woods behind our house with my dog Jerry. Jerry's one great 
fault was his mania for chasing squirrels and cats. He was very 
clumsy and hasty in his methods, however, so the cats in the 
neighborhood scorned him, and the squirrels delighted in teasing 
him by sitting bolt upright on their hind legs staring at him, 
while he, with a great affectation of cunning, would crawl to- 
wards them for a few minutes, then growing impatient, spring at 
them with joyous, self-confident barks, whereupon, with a dis- 
dainful whisk of their tails, they would skip up to the topmost 
branches and chatter merrily at his discomfiture. 

He never lost hope, though, and now he was sniffing eagerly 
on each side of the path, fully expecting at last to discover a fat, 
lazy squirrel, less spry than most of its tribe, which would allow 
itself to be devoured. Sometimes he would give a challenging 
bark, but the squirrels were busily storing nuts in the treetops and 
only took time to drop a few shells on him with a tantalizing 
"chitter." This enraged him, and he trotted on with ears 
pricked, growling in his throat. 

After a time we came to a great oak, around whose roots was 
a tangle of bright poison-ivy vine. Curled up in this I noticed a 
small bristly brown ball, and so did Jerry. He stopped abruptly, 
quivering with excitement. This squirrel actually looked asleep! 
He began to crawl cautiously towards it, his nose wriggling, his 
tail twitching. Seeing that it did not move, agitation over- 
came him and he pounced upon it with a triumphant bark. 
He snatched it in his gaping mouth and half closed his jaws 
with a delighted snarl. Instantly he dropped it as if it were red- 
hot, gave an astounded and agonized yelp, and dashed madly off, 
with his tail between his legs, wildly shaking his head and howl- 
ing with all the power of his lungs. The ball picked itself up, 
leisurely shook itself and waddled off. 

It took a long time to extract the quills from poor Jerry's 
smarting mouth. He could eat nothing but bread soaked in 
milk for a week, and has showed a chilly indifference to squirrels 
since that day. 

Mary Shipment, 1920 

tEfye €aby in tfye picture 

He had discovered the picture one day while engaged in a 
game of robber bandits, which was taking him all over the great 
house. Now, playing robber bandits by one's self, however great 
may be one's powers of imagination, is sadly lacking in excite- 
ment, so Philip had stopped to rest in the room where he happened 
to be when his inspiration deserted. Then it was that he first made 
the acquaintance of his Lady. She gazed down at him from the 
wall, with dreamy, half-closed eyes. She was dressed in clinging 
white, her shoulders bare, and she was encircled by a blue cloud 
of smoke from the cigarette which she held carelessly between 
two fingers. She seemed very attractive to Philip, who decided 
that she must be an Angel. He dimly remembered some bed-time 
tales of his dead mother in which these personages had largely 
figured. They always wore clinging white, and were encircled by 
clouds, he remembered, and always smiled kindly at inquisitive 
little boys. 

Philip's mother had died when he was but three years old, 
and his father had followed her a few months later. The boy was 
left to the care of an uncle, who, being wrapped up in the writing 
of six volumes on " Insect Life", had no time to waste on a small 
boy. He had hired a "capable young woman, neat, experienced, 
fond of children," who turned out to be a block of wood in human 
form. She conscientiously taught Philip his daily lessons and 
then forgot about him. The youngster was left entirely to his 
own devices, and even denied the privilege of playing with the 
boys of the neighborhood, or associating with the cook, his 
one-time friend, for reasons which he was "too little to under- 
stand." Naturally he made up games and stories for himself, 
and acquired many strange ideas of life. 

He re-visited the Lady in the Picture often after his first dis- 
covery of her, and took to her all his troubles and puzzling 
questions. He had no one else to take them to, poor baby. He 
had, at first, made one or two attempts at asking questions, but 
the governess always told him to "run and play," and his uncle 
always slammed the door in his face. So he settled his problems 
for himself. 



The room in which his Lady lived, belonged to a younger 
uncle, absent at college, and so was never occupied except dur- 
ing vacation. Philip spent most of his spare time there, and 
always trotted in the last thing at night and the first thing in 
the morning for a word with his Lady. The more he saw of her, 
the more convinced he became that she was an angel. 

Ore night, during the Christmas vacation, Philip, feeling that 
he would like to see something of the World, begged his college 
uncle to take him out somewhere to dinner. Being rather a 
freakish youth, and having nothing particular to do, his uncle 
decided it would be quite a lark to give the kid a taste of Life. 
Accordingly the two went together to the most fashionable hotel 
in the city. 

Philip settled himself in his chair behind the little white 
table, and gazed about him with wondering, dazzled eyes. 
Could they be real, these creatures in trailing gowns, these splen- 
did men in spotless black and white? 

Suddenly, way across the lighted room, Philip beheld a Vision. 
It was his Lady of the Picture, alive. There were the bare shoul- 
ders, the clinging white dress, the dreamy eyes, the laughing 
mouth, the cloud of cigarette smoke. He stared wonderingly, and 
a wave of happiness rushed over him. Now, a,t last, he could 
really talk with her and she would answer him. Before his uncle 
could stop him, he slipped out of his chair and made his way 
across the crowded room. He reached his Lady at last and, 
with no hesitation, put forth the question that had long been 
troubling his baby-mind. "Are you an angel?" he asked her. 
There was an uproarious burst of laughter from the table, and 
Philip's uncle hurried up with a murmured apology. 

"Don't apologize for the boy, please," said the Lady. 
"Apologize rather, for bringing a baby to a place like this. Take 
him home at once." 

Philip's uncle led him away, struggling, unwilling to give up so 
soon his chance to talk with his Lady in reality. His uncle 
called a taxi, and they started for home. 

"What in the name of Heaven possessed you, youngster?" 
demanded his uncle. "Why did you want to talk to perfect 



"I wanted to know if she was an angel," answered Philip, 
simply. "Was she? She didn't tell me." 

His uncle roared with laughter, and Philip, feeling somehow, 
that it was an insult to his Lady, began to kick and pound the 
man until he stopped. They reached home, and Philip went to 
bed with his question still unanswered, but happy in the know- 
ledge that his Lady was somewhere near, alive and smiling. 
To-morrow he would go out and look for her. 

The woman whom he had left, was rather silent for the rest 
of the dinner and refused to accompany her friends to the theatre, 
saying she was tired and would prefer to go straight home. Set- 
tled back in the soft cushions of her limousine, she tried to shake 
off the memory of a solemn-faced little boy, with wide, admiring 
eyes, but he followed her everywhere, and his baby question 
still rang in her ears, "Are you an angel?" She reached home 
with her mind in a disturbed state. She had been so sure that 
the quarrel between herself and her husband could never be 
ended, but now — perhaps, after all, it had not been entirely his 
fault that they had drifted so far apart. Of course, their tastes 
were widely different. He loved to sit at home, with a book and 
an open fire, while she loved a whirl of social life, dinners, dances, 
teas, the theatre, something every evening. At least she had 
thought she loved it, but did she? She knew that to-night she 
was tired, tired, tired of it all. She had only been awaiting a 
good opportunity to broach the subject of divorce to her husband, 
but perhaps, after all, it was not necessary, perhaps she could 
learn to love her home and quiet evenings with him. She knew 
that if her baby boy had lived, she would have cared for nothing 
but to stay at home with him. If he had lived (she smiled wist- 
fully) he, too, might have wondered, like the wide-eyed little 
boy to-night, if she were an angel. For the sake of her dead baby, 
wasn't it worth another trial? 

She shook herself impatiently. Was she going to let her 
whole future be decided by the words of a five-year-old young- 
ster? How utterly foolish she was. Yet it had been strangely 
sweet, that baby question, "Are you an angel?" He had trusted 
her, he had thought her everything that was good. She wondered 
who the little fellow was. She suddenly remembered that the 



young man who had taken the boy away, was someone she 
knew. He was young Fred King, whose sister she had known in 
girlhood. The boy must have been the little nephew whom she 
had heard the older brother had adopted. Why, he must be the 
son of her old friend . ' ' Are you an angel ?" 

Suddenly she sprang up and went to the door of her husband's 
room. She knocked and, being told to come in, found him in 
his favorite place, before the fire. She stood, silent, in the door- 
way. Her husband looked up, surprised, then rose and said, 
"You're home early to-night. Not enough excitement for you?" 

She choked and said haltingly, "It's not that. It's — I — 
oh, Basil, I'm sick of it all. I don't want excitement. I want to 
stay here with you. For the sake of — of our dead boy, let's be 
friends again! Don't say anything, please! If you say anything, 
I shall break down." 

The man stood silent, but there was joy and wonder in his 
eyes. A long time they stood, without a word, then the man 

"There's nothing I can say. It seems like a dream to me — 
a dream too good to be true ; but as long as I don't wake up — 
Louise, do you know what you look like, standing there? An 

His wife laughed tremulously, happily. "That's the second 
time I've been told that, to-night. I shall begin to think so my- 
self, if I'm not careful." 

In a house, several blocks away, the Lady in the Picture 
smiled gently in the darkness. Her work was done. She had 
established a peaceful home and gained for Philip a real Lady to 
tell his troubles to, who would take the place, to the best of her 
ability, of his dead mother, and make him always wonder if she 
were not, at heart, an angel. 

Sally Humason, CP. 1917 

©nc Day Cast &Vek 

The song is old. 

I do not know it all. 

Why care? The music is enough. 

And these few words 

"Mighty lak' a Rose." 

One day last week, 

An odor, sound or touch 

Came to me. 

I cannot tell you which — 
It might have been the clock. 
And with it. like a flash. 
The music and the words 
"Mighty lak' a Rose." 

From dawn that day 

'Til Morpheus came that night 

I was a maniac 

Haunted and delighted 

By one idea and the wish 

To sing and sing 

"Mighty lak' a Rose." 

Hum. hum. hum. hum. hum, hum. 

Hum. "Mighty lak' a Rose." 

It was no easy task 

To entertain or talk to friends 

Or even to partake of meals. 

When in my mind 

Was beating like a bird 

Against a cage 

"Mighty lak' a Rose." 

Hum. hum. hum. hum. hum. hum. 

Hum, "Mighty lak' a Rose." 



The next day came, 
And to that day's sane mind 
The song was but a lot of words. 
I could not sing it if I would. 
How foolish I was yesterday! 
But — yesterday is not to-day 
And I am not the same. 

One day last week 

An odor, sound or touch 

Came to me. 

I cannot tell you which — 
It might have been the clock. 

Bernice Boutwell, 1917 


Alone, I sit in silence which grows denser as the night creeps 
on. The wind in piercing coldness, whisks about the stretch of 
moonlit snow, outside. 

Quickly, I draw the shade, and turn once more to welcome 
the warm light and heat of my own fireside. The flickering 
shadows dance upon the empty chairs around me. 

There is my mother's old green chair, a trifle faded. The 
carpet before it, well worn, where tired feet have rested. 

No longer do I feel alone. Familiar figures seem to sit there. 
I see the light on her hair. The shadows play among the folds 
of her soft garments. 

Gwendolen Brooks, 1918 


Our dear Mrs. Draper has passed into "the Other Room." 
The sunny window is empty, and no loving greeting comes to us 
as we go in and out of the circle. An influence precious and far- 
reaching has gone from our daily life. Yet we rejoice that to her 
eager spirit the larger life has opened, of whose fullness the heart 
of man cannot conceive. 

As we look back upon Mrs. Draper's long and devoted ser- 
vice to Abbot Academy, we give thanks for so great a gift. 
Through all the seventy-six years since — a timid young girl — 
she came with her father to enroll herself here, as a "scholar," 
she gave of her best to the school that she loved. During Mr. 
Draper's life, she worked with and through him, and their com- 
mon interest expressed itself not only in their many generous 
gifts, but in constant thoughtful service. So united were Mr. and 
Mrs. Draper in mind and purpose, that those who knew them 
both intimately have said that at Trustees' Meeting they always 
felt that Mrs. Draper was present by Mr. Draper's side, and that 
her voice was speaking through his. Indeed when this close and 
tender relationship was broken by death, few thought that Mrs. 
Draper could long survive. But the sense that she must continue 
to care for the interests that both had cherished, enabled her in 
time to rise above her grief, and for twelve years her serene and 
beautiful life was a benediction to all who knew her. 

What she meant to Abbot during these ripe years of after- 
glow cannot well be expressed. Her life was inspiring, full of 
loving and gracious power. Her influence upon the students was 
profound, yet few of them ever entered her presence or heard her 
voice. Her affection radiated with a pervasive power that 
reached every girl who walked about the circle, and voices were 
softer, hearts were gentler, deeds more kindly, because she 
watched from her window. How interested she was in all our 
activities, how keenly she enjoyed our gala days, how generously 
she gave to our needs, great and small! " I want to have a share 
in your party," she would say, as she sent her roses, or apple 
blossoms, or rhododendrons to brighten some festivity. "What 
can I do for Abbot Academy?" was almost the last question she 
asked before she left her window, not to return. 



Those who were privileged from time to time to sit by her 
side and look out with her, not only upon Abbot Academy, but 
upon all the wide interests to which her heart went out, went 
away uplifted and strengthened. Her thought and her love 
followed those who were dear to her to the ends of the earth. She 
was keenly alive to the activities of our time, and rarely ready for 
one of her age to accept and approve the new thing. She felt 
the confusion and turmoil of these latter days, yet she never for an 
instant doubted that God ruled. 

She never complained of her increasing infirmities, though 
she prayed constantly that her mind might remain clear to the 
end. She gave thanks that the sun shone, that the birds sang, that 
she was able to enjoy her comforts, that her friends were so 
good to her, that she was "so blessed." But ever her thought 
was projected forward into the life beyond, whither so many of 
her dear ones had gone. " If I am here" and "so long as I stay" 
qualified all her plans. "How much we shall have to talk about, 
of all that has happened since they went!" she often said. Yet 
she was not impatient. "What God hath ordered must be right, " 
was the constant tenor of her thoughts. 

So in serene trust that the will of God for her transcended 
her thoughts and her dreams, she entered into life. 

May God grant that the peace and power of her life may 
live on in the lives of those who loved her, and may abide ever in 
the school she loved ! 

Irene Rowley Draper was born in Lansing, N. Y., January 
25, 1824. Later she lived in Wrentham, Mass. She was a stu- 
dent in Abbot Academy from 1840 to 1843. During the last of 
these years she was in charge of the "Commons House", facing 
School street, nearly on the present site of the McKeen Memorial 

On May 24, 1848, she was married to Warren Fales Draper, 
who as bookseller, printer and publisher, was identified through- 
out his long life with the town and schools of Andover, and 
widely and honorably known throughout the country. The 



Draper homestead was built in 1868. Mr. Draper was a Trustee 
of Abbot Academy from 1868 to 1905, and Treasurer from 1875 
to 1901. 

Mr. Draper died January 8, 1905, and Mrs. Draper, Decem- 
ber 27, 1916. 

Most Important Gifts From Mr. and Mrs. Draper 
From Mr. and Mrs. Draper 

$25,000 to Draper Hall— (1888) 

$40,000 to Abbot Academy— (1896) 

Casts and Models for the Studio 

Books for the Library 

Reading table with magazine rack 

Portrait of Mr. Draper (from Mrs. Draper) 

$1,000 for founding a Library Fund 

By Mr. Draper's will, Abbot Academy was made the resid- 
uary legatee of the Draper Estate after Mrs. Draper's death. 
From Mrs. Draper 

For the Senior Parlor: antique brass vase, desk chair, 
electric lamp, engraving of Pilgrim's Progress 
For the Faculty Parlor: silver tea service, gold band china, 
$300 for furnishing 

For McKeen Rooms: grandfather's clock. 
For Recreation room : wall seats and cushions 
$500 to Downs Fund 

The fund for the Memorial Gate in honour of Miss Merrill 
is growing steadily. The response by old girls to the appeal has 
been very hearty and the memorial will certainly have one 
characteristic greatly desired : — it will be a tribute erected, not by 
a few, but by many loyal, loving friends. 

It is hoped that those who have not yet answered the letters 
already sent out will do so soon, and that the gifts which will 
come in reply to letters still to be written will swell the sum 
sufficiently to permit the Trustees to begin construction work in 
the early spring. 

Plans for the gate and the necessary changes in the School 
Street front, have already been submitted by the architects, 
McKim, Mead and White, of New York City. 



A really brilliant debate was held at Abbot on the evening 
before the great presidential election, in which the merits of the 
two candidates were put forth and upheld by four girls who were 
quite competent to speak on the subject. Short rebuttal speeches 
were made which were noteworthy for their clear conciseness and 
for the ready knowledge of the events of the campaign displayed 
by the speakers. 

Good form was held throughout the debate, and the speakers 
showed great skill and cleverness in their arguments as well as a 
great deal of intelligence on questions of modern politics. For 
many years there have been no debates at Abbot, but it has now 
been proved that more of such debates would be a very good 
thing for the girls and for the school. It certainly seems as if the 
time had come for the founding of a debating society. 

The silence in which the girls listened to the debate and the 
keenness with which they noted the points, showed how great 
was their interest in it. Indeed the enthusiasm of the school is 
unbounded, and one of the most satisfying things about boarding 
school life is the responsiveness of the girls to their surroundings 
and to the various people they come into contact with. The girls 
are always ready to applaud, always willing to listen, and quick 
to sympathize. It is this spirit of sympathetic interest among the 
girls that helps to make the school what it is to-day. 

This year everything in the line of athletics has been sys- 
tematized. During the basketball season, certain squads re- 
ported on certain days, and everyone got a chance to play at 
least twice a week. Hockey was managed in the same way, and 
there was one day every week for beginners at tennis. Later in 
the year walking was made a regular sport and organized. 
Every girl who takes walking and no other sport, must walk a 
certain number of miles a week, handing in a slip every night, 
saying where she went. A leader has been elected over every 
sport. This leader is responsible for the attendance of the 
different squads. The basketball practice was greatly helped 
by the addition of the new field, which was completed early in 
the fall. 



While the girls who played in the Bradford game have 
deservedly received their A's, a new system has been arranged 
which will give those who do not excel in basketball a chance to 
gain the coveted honor. In the spring a number of A's will be 
awarded. To obtain one, a girl must excel in one sport, must have 
good school spirit and good sportsmanship, must have received 
a grade of A in gymnastics and dancing, and must have good 
posture. She must also stand well in her studies. It is certainly 
a great honor which every girl should be proud to gain. 

Why is it that people are much more eager to tell something 
bad, rather than something good, about a person? If you know- 
something you don't quite like about another girl, do you think 
it's going to make it any better by telling someone else, and let- 
ting her tell someone else, until the story has spread through the 
whole school, and grown a little bit worse by every repetition? 
If you don't approve of a certain action or attitude of a girl, 
why not go straight to her? That's the only fair thing to do — 
only fair to the girl, to yourself, to the whole school. If you go 
about it in the right way, she'll thank you for it heartily. A girl 
certainly can't be expected to repair a fault, if she doesn't know 
she possesses it. Go to her and tell her frankly what you think. 

If you're afraid of being told that it's "none of your business" 
and feel that you simply can't say anything to the girl herself, 
then don't say anything at all! If it isn't any of your business 
to talk it over with the person principally concerned, it certainly 
isn't any of your business to talk with every outsider you happen 
to meet. 

It is perfectly natural to want to talk. It is also perfectly 
natural, at times, to want to talk about those with whom you 
work and play and live, but why not talk about their good points, 
not their faults? There is certainly good, a great deal of good, to 
be said for everyone. Find it out and talk about that all you 
want to. You'll make everyone concerned feel a great deal 
better than if you'd told them the latest scandal. 

Why is it some accomplish so much more than others? 
"I don't see where Louise finds time to do it all," Peggy ex- 



But isn't it just this way? Louise works while she works, 
and plays while she plays. As for Peggy, her study hour is a 
series of disconnected attempts. First it is a few pages of English, 
punctuated by sighs and groans, then a bit of Latin, digested by 
the aid of an occasional chocolate. Then she discovers much to 
her astonishment that, as usual, Math comes first period in the 
morning. She makes a mad dive for that unfathomable volume. 

But it is not there. It is Where do you suppose? Over in 

the gym. It must be. Peggy had it over there the last period 
that afternoon, and she hasn't seen it since. She can't go after 
it. Besides study hour is nearly over, and she hasn't prepared 
one single, solitary subject for to-morrow. Time is suddenly 
growing precious to Peggy. After a few preliminary plans as to 
whose book she shall borrow, and as to what she will say when 
she asks for permission, she sallies forth and in due time returns 
to begin her study hour. 

In the next room Louise is closing the covers of her book, 
and when the recreation bell rings is ready for a good time with 
her friends. 

She was late to breakfast because the rising bell was late in 
ringing — she was late to her room because the study hour bell 
was early in ringing — she didn't have that lesson done because 
she simply couldn't find her book — she didn't have the other one 
done, she didn't know where to begin — and she didn't have the 
third one done because the assignment had been given out 
too far ahead. She was just going to do that part, when the bell 
rang — unexpectedly. Well, if only the teacher had explained 
just what she wanted done, that lesson would have been perfect, 
she's sure of that. It was because she had had to spend so much 
time on Latin that that English theme was late. It was because 
she had had to spend so much time on English that that Latin 
translation was so poorly prepared. Always and invariably, 
somebody or something is to blame ! 

Haven't you ever seen a girl like that — one who must 
always "blame the cat" when she herself is absolutely the only 
person at fault? The chances are ten to one that her nice warm 
bed so appealed to her at 7. a.m., that she stayed in it until the 



last minute and the poor, innocent bell was the easiest thing to 
blame. Books can be borrowed in cases of necessity; the time 
to find out an assignment is before you want to recite ; bells have a 
habit of ringing when the time is up; a teacher will be very glad 
to explain anything you didn't understand in class, if you go to 
her in time. 

Leave the cat out of it and, when you know you deserve 
the blame yourself, take what you deserve, and say nothing. 

Why is an opportunity within reach often disregarded, and 
even overlooked, or, if not overlooked, simply considered worth- 
less because it would be so easy to step in and make use of it? 
At Abbot Academy, golden opportunities are actually cast aside 
daily, recklessly, and thoughtlessly, simply because they are 
within easy reach of every girl in school. Why not look about, 
appreciate and make use of a few of the many fine things the 
school offers? 

The most important change in the organization of the teach- 
ing staff of the school is the long-desired separation of the de- 
partment of gymnastics from that of elocution. Miss Alida 
Benham Carson of New York City, a graduate of the Wellesley 
School of Hygiene, is in charge of the work in Physical Education, 
and Miss Ethel Potter, a graduate of Wellesley, who has studied 
and taught at the Boston School of Expression, comes from 
Boston on Friday and Saturday, for the classes in elocution and 

The Household Science department is under the manage- 
ment of the Garland School in Boston. Miss Evelyn Cum- 
mings, who has been for seven or eight years one of Mrs. Stan- 
nard's strongest teachers, has charge of the work in housewifery, 
and Miss Grace E. Porter has the classes in household manage- 

A course in Spanish is offered this year by Mme. Romero, 
w T ho is assisting Miss Sherman in the French classes. Mme. 
Romero is a native of Tours, but she married a Spanish lawyer, 
and has lived in Spain and the Argentine Republic. 



The head of the Latin department is Miss Laura Pettingell 
of Cambridge. Miss Pettingell is a graduate of Smith College, 
where she also received her master's degree, has studied at Rad- 
cliffe, and has had four years' experience in teaching. She is 
assisted by Miss Adele Martin of New Brunswick, New Jersey, a 
graduate of Wellesley College. 

Miss Nichols still has charge of the violin teaching; she is 
assisted by Miss Mildred Gates of Worcester. Miss Harriet 
Bixby, who was once secretary to Miss Bailey, is supervisor of 
the day-scholars' room. 

School 3ournal 



7 Hall Exercises. Miss Bailey: Regulations of our School Life. 

8 Chapel. Miss Bailey : The Secret of the Efficient Life. 

10 A. C. A. Picnic to the new girls. 

1 1 Sherman Cottage Picnic. 

14 Hall Exercises. Miss Carson: Perfect Health. 

15 Chapel. Mr. Stackpole: A Religion Worth Having. 

17 " Baby Party " in the recreation room. 

21 Hall Exercises. Mr. Ashton: Symphony Concerts. 

22 Miss Bailey talks to Seniors in Drawing room. 
Chapel. Mr. Henry: Influence of the Christian Spirit. 

24 Annual Senior Picnic at Haggett's Pond. 

28 Hall Exercises. Miss Howey: Around the Abbot World of Art. 

29 Chapel. Mr. Robert Speer: Begin Life Now. 
31 Hallowe'en Party in Davis Hall. 


3 Chapel. Miss Burton from New York Y. W. C. A. 

4 Senior-Mid Picnic. Pomp's Pond. 

5 Chapel. Mr. Ryder: The Progress of Womanhood. 
Organ Recital: Mr. Ashton. 

6 Chapel. Mrs. Lang representing Boys' Club of Lawrence. 
Wilson and Hughes Campaign Speeches in Abbot Hall. 

8 Miss Mason takes girls to Lexington and Concord. 
Reading by Charles Rann Kennedy. 

11 Abbot-Bradford Basketball game at Abbot. Abbot 23, Bradford 11. 
Senior tea to Bradford Seniors. 

12 Chapel. Mr. Clark Carter brings Message from Lawrence City- 


15 Miss Bailey's tea to faculty. 

18 Andover-Exeter game at Andover. Exeter 6, Andover 0. 

19 Chapel. Mr. Barbour: The Development of Character. 
21 Corridor Stunt Party in Davis Hall. 

23 Tennis Finals, won by Gertrude Goss '17. 

26 Chapel. Dr. Fitch: Belief in God. 

27 Chapel. Mrs. Ralph Harlow : Work in Smyrna. 


1 Hall Exercises. Miss Chickering: The War in Rumania. 

2 Chapel. Mr. Knox, Chaplain of Columbia University: Do prayers 

come true? 

9 First recital. Concert by Hoffmann Quartet and Mr. Ernst Perabo. 
10 Chapel Miss Bailey: The Love of Jesus Christ. 



13 Lecture on Archery by Mr. Wallace Bryant. 

15 Miss Bailey takes Seniors to the Tabernacle. Mr. Sunday. 

16 Christmas Party for Andover Children. 

17 Chapel. Christmas Service in Davis Hall. Organ recital: Mr. 


20 Chapel. Miss Kinney, Bible teacher of Mr. Sunday's staff : The Bible. 
Christmas Songs in McKeen Rooms. 

21 Carols. Glee Club. 


5 Chapel. Miss Bailey: Service for Mrs. Draper. 

7 Chapel. Miss Bailey : The Mind. 

8 Lecture on California : Mr. Erwin. 

10 Miss King takes Biology class to Cambridge. 

1 1 Reading by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson at Phillips Chapel. 

13 First Senior tea-dance in Recreation Room. 

14 Chapel. Lecture and Songs, Hampton Quartette. 

18 Lecture on Philippines by Mrs. Alice McKay Kelly. 


On the evening of November 8 we had the honor of having Mr. Charles 
Rann Kennedy with us in Davis Hall. He read to us three passages from the 
New Testament, with dramatic interpretations, and an act and a half of The 
Servant in the House, also the whole of The Terrible Meek. Mr. Kennedy not 
only introduces his characters to us, he makes us know them as he knows 
them, and by contrasting them he points out the shams of the world. His 
satire is not biting. It is not thrust upon us. We see it — feel it, not so much 
through what is said but by the way it is said. In The Servant in the House 
he makes us see that all are equal in God's sight — that Robert has just as 
much of a chance, in spite of his lack of education, as the Bishop of Benares 
and far more than the Bishop of Lancaster. 

Mr. Kennedy understands human nature and deals with it as few have 
dared to. The author most certainly had a motive in saving The Terrible Meek 
for the last. The profound silence at the close told better than words the 
success of the evening. 

In Davis Hall, on Monday evening, January 8, Mr. James W. Erwin 
entertained a large audience by a superbly illustrated lecture on California. 
Mr. Erwin was so eloquent in his talk of the golden state, and the pictures 
shown were so alluring that the audience quite forgot the cold weather and 
the slippery pavements outside, in rapt delight over crocodiles, luscious orange 
groves and beautiful gardens. Mr. Erwin's remarks on the artistic pictures 
shown on the screen were both appropriate and interesting. As Mr. Erwin 
closed, it was hard to realize that the evening had not been spent in that 
fascinating land of joy and sunshine which he loved so well and made so 
charmingly visible to those not fortunate enough to have visited it. 

On Thursday evening, January 18, Mrs. Alice McKay Kelly lectured at 
Abbot on her experiences in the Philippine Islands. Mrs. Kelly has spent 
fifteen years in the northern part of Luzon, where she endeavored to teach 
the untrained tribe of Igorrotes a little of what civilization means. The lecture 
was illustrated by pictures of the island and of the people in their homes and 



in the new schools established there by the United States. No one who heard 
Mrs. Kelly could fail to realize the conditions of that country as they were 
before civil government was established there, or to appreciate the improve- 
ments brought about there under the governorship of Mr. Taft and Mr. Forbes. 
Mrs. Kelly inspired her audience to help a little in the great work which lies 
before us in the Philippine Islands. 


The first of the Abbot Academy Recitals for this season was given Satur- 
day afternoon, December 9, in Davis Hall. Mr. Ernst Perabo, pianist, and 
the Hoffmann Quartet from the Boston Symphony Orchestra gave a very 
beautiful and interesting program. Mr. Perabo has long been an ardent 
friend of Abbot and is revered and loved by all Abbot girls. His interpretation 
of Mozart's Larghetto and Bach's Chromatic Fantasie and Fugue was exceed- 
ingly lovely. The Hoffmann Quartet played Beethoven's Quartet in B Flat 
very impressively, and the two movements from Debussy's Quartet in G Minor 
were played in a most expressive and beautiful way which won the hearts of 
all. The final number on the program, a Piano Quartet from Rheinberger, 
was exquisite in its ensemble effects, and Mr. Perabo and the Quartet were 
encored again and again. Everyone was happy in having the opportunity 
of hearing such good music, and the afternoon seemed only too short. 


For the second time Abbot sent a delegation to a Northfield conference 
on June 15, 1916. Formerly the school was represented at Silver Bay, but in 
1915, owing to the fact that the conference at Silver Bay was changed so as 
to include only colleges, Abbot chose to attend that at Northfield, sending a 
delegation of about eighteen. The girls returned so enthusiastic about it that 
in 1916 the number was greatly increased. We were represented by thirty- 
four girls. We were all together in Music Hall under the chaperonage of 
Miss Bancroft and Miss Countway, and Miss Bailey was with us for a few days. 

Our days were crowded with events. One beautiful and inspiring talk 
followed another, and in the time for recreation, sports and games between 
various delegations occupied the time. Perhaps the best way to give an 
idea of a Northfield Day is to outline a typical program. After breakfasting 
in Marquand Hall, everyone went to chapel, which was conducted each day 
in Stone Chapel by the Reverend J. Stuart Holden of London. After this we 
scattered to our various Bible classes. At 11.30 there was a meeting in the 
auditorium conducted by various prominent speakers, among them Dr. Merle 
Smith, Dr. Erdman and Bishop Brent of the Philippines. Abbot took a great 
interest in all the sports conducted in the afternoons. Because of rain, Field 
Day was held in the auditorium and it was an additional source of happiness 
that we won the day. In former years it had been a custom to hold a meeting 
at Round Top at 6.45, but this year because of the rainy weather the meetings 
were held in Stone Chapel. After this we met once more in the auditorium to 
hear the last speaker of the day and then returned to Music Hall for our own 
good-night meeting. Of course it was impossible for everyone to attend all 
the meetings, but we tried to divide them up as evenly as possible so that 
when our delegation left on June 22, we felt that we took with us an infinite 
amount of help and inspiration. 



^onor Holl 

First Quarter 

Martha Grace Miller, Katherine Ch'en, Julia Abbe 91 
Elizabeth Bacon, Tsing Lien Li, Margaret Van Voorhis, Margaret French 

Helen Walker 89 
Avalita Howe 88 


Carita Bigelow, Mildred Daniels, Helen Donald, Mary Shipman 87 


The tennis finals between Miss Julie Sherman and Miss Gertrude Goss 
were played on the morning of November 22. Both contestants played a re- 
markable game, in spite of the condition of the court. After three close sets, 
Miss Goss won with a score of 6-2, 4-6, 6-2. The doubles finals, Miss J. Sher- 
man and Miss G. Goss against Miss C. McReynolds and Miss R. Eaton, 
were won by Miss Goss and Miss Sherman, with a score of 6-2, 1-6, 6-4. 
Cups were awarded for both doubles and singles. 

The odd-even class game was played on November 25. After a close 
struggle the odds (classes of 1917 and 1919) won by a score of 23 to 11, the 
same score by which Abbot defeated Bradford. 

Enthusiasm was aroused for the sport of archery on December 13 and 14, 
when Mr. Wallace Bryant, an enthusiastic archer and the former national 
champion, came to school to lecture and coach any girls who were interested. 
Mr. Bryant will return in the spring to coach further, and it is hoped that he 
may turn out some expert archers. Mr. Bryant also generously offers a cup 
to be awarded at the end of an archery tournament, held in the spring. 

A little before 3 o'clock on Saturday afternoon, November 11, a long line 
of girls, dressed in white, with caps and scarfs of light blue, appeared around 
the corner of Draper Hall, marching toward the basketball field and singing, 
"Glory, glory, glory to the Abbot girls in blue, for this is Abbot's day." And 
it was Abbot's day, for when the whistle blew for time at the end of the annual 
game with Bradford, the scoreboard showed Abbot 23, Bradford 11. For the 
first time in five years Abbot had won a hard-fought and well-deserved victory. 
The two teams lined up as follows: — 


G. Goss (Capt.), r.f. r.f. M. Foss 

H. Vedder, l.f. l.f. M. Herrick 
D. Fairfield, c. c. M. Storrs 
J. Sherman, s.c. s.c. H. Dunning (Capt.) 

I. Solle, E. Davis, r.g. r.g. M. Driggs 
M. Church, l.g. l.g. F. Lennon 
Abbot had no easy task in winning. Bradford's teamwork and passing 

were remarkable and for quite a while the score was very close. Then Abbot's 
superior playing told, her skilful forwards made basket after basket and, 
although Bradford strove hard and well, she was not able to catch up before 
the end of the game. 

Abbot showed that her team was well-trained by the fact that only one 
foul was called on her during the entire game. A great deal of credit is 
due to Miss Carson, Abbot's coach, and also to Gertrude Goss, the captain 
and champion player. 



After the game a tea was given for the Bradford Seniors by the Abbot 
Seniors. The Bradford team remained for dinner and until about 7:30. Then 
the A's were given out and every member of the team made a speech. 

CtbbotsBrabforb (Sames 

1901 Basketball Bradford 13-12 

1902 Basketball Bradford 5-2 

1903 Basketball Abbot 5-4 

1904 Basketball Abbot 17-9 

1905 Basketball Bradford 22-6 

1906 Basketball Abbot 14-8 

1907 Basketball Bradford 35-5 

1908 Basketball Abbot 23-16 

1908 Hockey Bradford 3-2 

1909 Basketball Bradford 43-6 

1909 Hockey Abbot 7-2 

1910 Basketball Abbot 20-12 

1910 Hockey Abbot 2-1 

1911 Basketball Abbot 22-11 

1911 Hockey Bradford 6-4 

1912 Basketball Abbot 25-18 

1912 Hockey Bradford 5-3 

1913 Basketball Abbot 19-16 

1913 Hockey Tie 4-4 

1914 Hockey Bradford 5-1 

1915 Basketball Bradford 13-9 

1916 Hockey Bradford 6-2 

1917 Basketball Abbot 23-11 

Games: Abbot won 11. Basketball 9. Hockey 2. 

Bradford won 11. Basketball 6. Hockey 5. Tie 1. 
Points: Abbot 233. Basketball 208. Hockey 25. 

Bradford 268. Basketball 236. Hockey 32. 

(£orri6or "Stunts" 

Corridor "stunts" were given in Davis Hall the evening of November 14, 
and, as a good-natured burlesque, the performance was a great success. 
Sherman Cottage started the program smoothly with a charming solo dance 
by Katherine Greenough, followed by a song and a clever charade in which 
all of the cottagers participated. The girls of the First Corridor appeared in 
startling costumes, and after we had listened to the witticisms of a college 
student, Maud Arey danced a jig to the weird music afforded by the mandolins 
of some strange-looking darkies. Activities on the Mexican Border then began, 
when Janet Davis appeared as a nurse among the brave soldiers of the Third 
Corridor Front. Great excitement prevailed when she was seized by the 
Mexicans, and, after a furious volley of shots from American umbrellas, 
Carranza, alias Miss Howey, was captured. Scott's tale, Lord Ullins Daughter, 
was beautifully portrayed by the girls of the Fourth Corridor, and " Blossom" 
then won vehement applause in her role of bold Lochinvar. The circus troupe 
of the Third Corridor Wing then amused us with their interesting antics and their 



trained animals brought many a laugh. Highly instructive was the "maga- 
zine" which then appeared on the stage, and the pages of it brought many 
a sigh of admiration from the audience. From the beautifully posed cover, 
through "Helpful Hints", Stories, Fashions, et cetera, to the interesting 
advertisements, it was a complete success, especially the impersonation of 
Miss Carson. Small tables and soft lights transformed the stage into a veritable 
cabaret which set off to great advantage the lovely-gowned girls and their 
dashing escorts of the Second Corridor Front as they gave their orders to the 
famous waiter, M. Church, and applauded the graceful dancing of Mile. 
Antoinette. The entertainment ended amid shouts of laughter and approval, 
and everyone declared that this year's "stunts" would not be forgotten 
very soon. 


Notice on Bulletin Board 
" Dolls must be in by 3 :30." 

Might we suggest that now, as the days are growing longer, they might 
be allowed to stay out until four? Dolls must have their exercise, you know. 

Ruth Hathaway, in geometry, finishes her proposition and stops. 
Miss Elliott (to remind her): "Q. E. D." 
Ruth: "Quite enough done." 
Yes, Ruth, we think so too. 

Notice on Bulletin Board 
"Senior-Mid class meeting. Important associates come also." 
We have heard that the associates almost came to blows as to which of 
them should attend that meeting. 

Miss Bailey (in Bible III) : " Name the twelve disciples." 
G. Cole: "Andrew, Peter, er-er Job " 

We have heard that Job was the most patient of mortals. How about 
Miss Bailey? 

Ending to one of J. Davis's English themes: " Although she never married, 
she suffered a great deal." 

You seem to have dark ideas in regard to matrimony, Janet. 

Miss Sherman (at table) : " Katharine, will you have light or dark meat? " 
K. Coe: " I like both." 

So do we all, Kitty, but we never quite dared to say so. 

A. Stone (at German table) : " Ich kann den Sohn sehen, wenn er aufsteht." 
For the benefit of the ignorant, we will translate. " I can see the son when 
he gets up." 

We trust that Tony had her genders mixed. Phillips and the rising sun 
are in the same direction. 

D. Emery (at table) recites the poem which she had handed in for English. 
K. McKown (artlessly): "Why, I guess I'll hand in the poem / wrote." 
Poor Dick feels that the life of a poet is not for her. 



While going through Boston on the way to the Symphony, Doris Emery 
was informed by a school-mate that a certain building was a Jewish mosque 
As it happened to be the Christian Science Church, Doris's thoughts about 
said school-mate were not particularly complimentary. 

The tame crow visited Miriam Bacon's room the other day, scattered 
her letters all over the floor and carried away a yellow pencil. 
We hope he asked permission of the corridor teacher. 

3tems of (Beneral 3nterest 

Miss Countway spent the summer with Charlotte Fleming in Iowa. 
After a few months on a ranch in Wyoming, she returned in the late fall to 
Cambridge. Her address is 1654 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge, and she 
is at home to Abbot friends on Wednesday afternoons. 

Miss Spalding is teaching Expression, Physical Training and Swimming 
at the Mary Baldwin Seminary in Stanton, Virginia. 

Miss Stoody is teaching at the Cathedral School in Orlando, Florida. 

Miss Runner is expecting to come east early this winter. For a time 
she will visit Miss Tyler, who is working at Columbia University for her 
doctor's degree, and later we hope she will come to Andover. 

Miss Aldred attended the summer school of Columbia University last 
summer, taking courses in Institutional Management and Nursing Education. 

Miss Kelsey spoke at the fall meeting of the New York Abbot Club. 

Through the kindness of one of the trustees, the floor and walls of Davis 
Hall were thoroughly renovated and refinished during the summer. The 
grading of the color for the walls was under the personal direction of Mr. 
Richardson, the Boston architect. 

All the officers of school and class organizations meet once a week now 
with Miss Elliott in her new class in Parliamentary Law, which deals with the 
rules of etiquette and methods of procedure in public meetings. It is very 
good training for the girls and will doubtless prove a source of great benefit 
to all. 

Miss King has had classes this fall which every girl in school has attended, 
not only for the purpose of learning the classification of the books in the 
library and how to use them, but also for getting training in making bibliog- 
raphies for research work. 

The school has received as a gift from the Art Department of the November 
Club a cabinet containing some very interesting photographs collected for the 
Art Department by Miss McKeen. The November Club has given the school 
a bronze statue of Mozart, which was formerly the property of Mrs. G. W. W. 
Dove. For the John-Esther gallery there has also been loaned, by Miss Amelia 
Shapleigh, Delia Robbia's Singing Boys. A copy of Miss Margaret Slattery's 
new book, The Girl and Her Religion, was presented to the school by Mr. George 
A. Ripley of Andover. 

In an exhibition held in Concord in the summer, there were oil paintings 
by Miss Pooke, and two former teachers in the department of art, Miss 
Angelica S. Patterson and Mr. Frederick A. Bosley. 

There were about thirty-five "old" Abbot girls back for the Abbot- 
Bradford game, and it must have been largely their intense loyalty to the 
school that made our team score so highly. If so, we hope there will be as many- 
alumnae present next year to help us win again. 

Hlumnae IRotes 

£fy> abbot Club 

Calendar 1916-1917 
November 4. Miss Lorence Munson. 
December 2. Our Shakespearean Day. Miss Ingalls. 

January 6. Representatives from Miss Grace Ripley's School of Artistic 

February 3. Midyear Luncheon. 
March 3. "Wanted, a Job." Mrs. Stuart Chase. 
April 7. Annual Meeting. Recital by Mrs. Oliver Hewitt. 

1836. A little blue ribbon badge was sent to Elizabeth (Barnwell) 
Flanders with the suggestion that she wear it on June 6, the day of the alumnae 
meeting, when mention would surely be made of the earliest living alumnae, 
of the- eighty-year class. Early in the fall her daughter wrote: " Your kind note 
of May 27 came in time to give my mother much pleasure, and I thank you for 
it. On June 5, I pinned the little badge to her pillow, for we did not think she 
would live until the following day. She evidently enjoyed her physician's 
comments upon it, and I think that was the last of this earth's memories that 
penetrated to her tired brain. She lingered until August 17, but in spirit lived 
wholly in the other world. The end was peaceful and without pain. She was 
ninety-six years and four months old." 

1851. This class was represented in June by Maria (Parker) Howard, 
who came over from Lowell with her daughter, her granddaughter, Miriam 
(Howard) Bushnell, 1911, and her great-granddaughter. 

1 1856. Though no one of the graduates of the sixty-year class was present 
on Commencement Day, letters came from Mary (Hazen) Finn of Sedgwick, 
Kan., and Hannah (Flint) Brown of Andover, both formerly Andover girls. 
Five non-graduates, however, well represented the class. 

1856. Several cordial letters were received about commencement time 
from Mrs. Jules Levy, known when in school as Jennie Stimson. She was in 
Tours at the time of writing, but has a permanent address in Paris. A message 
came also from the twin sisters, Victoria Wilder George and Virginia Wilder 
Coates, who were seventy-five years old on June 12. 

1858. Dr. and Mrs. James G. Merrill (Louisa Boutwell) celebrated their 
golden wedding on October 11 at the home of their daughter, Perley (Mrs. 
Macfarland), in Mountain Lakes, N. J. Many of their relatives were present, 
including Dr. Merrill's sister, Mrs. Sara Merrill Wilson (1865), who read a 
poem. On the following day Dr. and Mrs. Wilson left for their winter home 
in Lake Helen, Fla., where Dr. Merrill is pastor. 

1863. Mrs. Jennie Abbott Marland has been bereaved by the death of 
her only son, George Abbott, in Augusta, Ga., June 8, 1916. 

1863. Mr. John H. Flint, long a prominent business man of Andover, 
died on November 30. Many friends will mourn with his wife, Frances Tyer, 
and his daughters, Gertrude Flint Grier, fl895, and Nellie Flint Rand, 1898. 



1863. Professor Junius VV. Hill, husband of Sarah Brigham, died in 
Hollywood, Cal., September 7, 1916. He was well known in Boston and 
vicinity as an organist and teacher. For nearly fifteen years he was professor 
of music at Wellesley College. Their home for many years was at Newton, 
but lately at Redlands, Cal. 

|1864. Dr. Sarah A. Jenness of Wolfeboro, N. H., met a tragic death 
when her house was burned to the ground on the night of December 26. She 
was a teacher in Abbot Academy 1880-82, and in Baltimore, Md. f Rockford, 
111., and elsewhere. After finishing her medical course at Boston University 
in 1889, she practised in Boston until her retirement about ten years ago, and 
did a great deal of good among the poor, especially in connection with the 
Salvation Army Rescue Mission and the Talitha Cumi Home. 

1864. Mr. and Mrs. Henry K. Flint (Lavinia Barnard) of North Andover 
passed their golden wedding day, September 6, very quietly at their home 
because of Mrs. Flint's feeble health. She died on November 4. 

|1866. Four of the fifty-year class held a pleasant reunion on Commence- 
ment Day, — Mrs. Sarah Lord Hall of Cambridge, Mrs. Henrietta Walker Day 
of Hopedale, Mrs. Sarah Hunking Cheney of Haverhill, and Miss Sarah Sawyer 
of Andover. Each of these spoke briefly at the alumnae meeting. Letters of 
regret came from Miss Mary C. Wheeler of Providence and Mrs. Sarah Allen 
Benner of Waldoborough, Me. Mrs. Benner worked energetically to promote 
the reunion and was much distressed that her health at the time would not 
permit her to come. 

fl867. Mrs. Emily (Fellows) Reed and her daughter Beatrice (1899) have 
taken a house in Belmont this year at 26 Cedar Road. Her son Philip has 
recently been married to Miss Sarah Shattuck of Norwood. Mrs. Reed was 
welcomed by many friends in Andover when she attended the first meeting of 
the November Club in the fall. 

|1868. Mrs. Milton P. Higgins (Katharine Chapin), president of the 
Massachusetts Branch of the National Congress of Mothers and Parent- 
Teachers Associations, was in charge of the parents' department at the meeting 
of the Massachusetts Sunday School Association, recently held in Boston. 

1871. Through the kindness of Lucinda Pierce Reed, some remarkable 
lantern slides of California scenery were shown to the school on January 8. 
Mrs. Reed had not visited Andover since leaving school and was much inter- 
ested in looking over the catalogue and learning of her old friends. 

1873. The Romance of a Christmas Card by Kate Douglas Wiggin Riggs 
was published by Houghton and Mifflin for the holidays. It is a pretty story, 
with something of the real Christmas spirit permeating its pages. 

1873. Elizabeth Rollins, who has taught in the Garland School of Home- 
making for ten years, had as a pupil there the present teacher of Household 
Science at Abbot Academy, Evelyn Cummings. 

fl877. An item has recently been received in regard to the memorial to 
Carrie (Hall) Bird in South Chicago. It is a square tower seventy feet high, erect- 
ed at one corner of the church of which Mr. Bird was pastor. It contains several 
rooms one above the other. The wall bears the following inscription: "To 
Mrs. Carrie Hall Bird, who gave the best eighteen years of her life to self- 



sacrificing work for the Calumet region, on the spot where most of her time was 
spent and in connection with the church which she devotedly loved, there is 
erected by her husband, church members, and loving friends, as a monument 
ever pointing all lives heavenward, and for the living use of this church and 
its resident workers — this memorial tower." Mr. Bird lived alone in this 
tower for several years before his death in 1914. It is said that he kept a bed 
in his sleeping-room for wayfaring men and that ten times he took under his 
own care for a time men who were striving to free themselves from the liquor 

1877. Emily Clark's husband, Mr. Frank W. Stearns, of the firm of 
R. H. Stearns Company, Boston, has been recently elected a life trustee of 
Amherst College. 

fl879. Isabel Parker has much sympathy in the recent death of her 
husband, Mr. Edward C. Brewer. 

fl881. Sara Puffer McKay is spending the year in this country and was 
present at the November meeting of the Boston Abbot Club. She spoke a few 
words on the conditions across the water from the point of view of her residence 
in Switzerland. In her honor, several of her classmates served the tea. 

1888. By a sad accident, Foster, the little son of Maude (Foster) French 
was instantly killed on October 12, in Newtonville. He was riding a velocipede 
and swung in front of an automobile. 

1891. News of Laura Miller came in a very pleasant way by the visit of 
her two sisters-in-law to the school in the summer. She is now Mrs. Horace A. 
Blackford and lives at 1034 South Main Street, Findley, Ohio. Her children 
are Emerson and Maria. 

fl894. Mabel Bosher Scudder has changed her home from Hawaii to 
Japan. Dr. Scudder, who was for nine years pastor of the Central Union 
Church in Honolulu, has resigned and accepted the pastorate of Union Church, 
Tokio. This church is composed chiefly of English-speaking people engaged in 
business or missionary work. Dr. and Mrs. Scudder spent the summer in New 
England, and made a flying visit to Andover one day, calling on Mrs. Draper 
and one or two other friends. 

1894. Miss Ellen C. Lombard, who has been for three years secretary of 
the Home Division of the U. S. Bureau of Education in Washington, is taking 
courses at the George Washington University. 

fl894. Mr. and Mrs. Millard (Winifred Barber) have moved from 
Andover to 170 Pine Ridge Road, Waban. 

fl894. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar G. Holt (Hannah Greene) are now living on 
Abbot Street in Andover. Their daughter Jane is a student at Abbot. 

1896. An interesting letter has been received from Beatrice Farnsworth 
since her marriage in August, telling something of her life since leaving Abbot. 
After teaching a while and traveling in Europe, she took up the study of nurs- 
ing at Johns Hopkins Hospital Training School, where she was graduated in 
1912. After an additional year of study, she volunteered for five months of 
work with Dr. Grenfell in Labrador. In June, 1913, she received her appoint- 
ment from Yale University as the first woman worker to go out to China under 



the support of the Woman's League, composed of professors' wives and others 
In her two years there she organized and directed the Yale Training School 
for Chinese women and was also in charge of the Yale Hospital at Changsha. 
She found this work with Chinese girls the most satisfying thing she has ever 
done. Her husband, Dr. Grover F. Powers, is on the staff of Johns Hopkins 
University and of the Hospital. 

fl897. The surgical dressings made in Andover are being sent direct to 
Mrs. Marlborough Churchill (Mary Smith), who is working in Paris for the 
American Fund for French Wounded. Captain Churchill has been sent to 
France by the government as a military observer. 

fl899. Mary Ryder, who has been for several years teaching in Newark, 
N. J., is taking graduate courses in English at Columbia University this year 
for her Master of Arts degree. 

fl900. Ethel Hazen Lillard has moved from Andover to Marion, where 
her husband is principal of Tabor Academy. 

1900. Marjorie Ide's husband, Mr. Shane Leslie, son of an Irish baronet, 
has recently issued a book called The End of the Chapter, which contains a note 
written to his grandmother by Thackeray, said to be the last letter he ever 
wrote. Mr. Leslie, who returned to England wounded from the front in 
France, came to the United States in the fall as an emissary for John Redmond. 
He has started a publication in New York called Ireland. 

1901. Helen Whittemore has resigned her position in the welfare depart- 
ment of the Cheney Brothers Silk Company of South Manchester, Conn., and 
is at present at home in Andover. 

fl904. Mary Byers Smith is one of the founders of the Hampshire Book 
Shop of Northampton, the Smith College co-operative bookstore which was 
started this fall. 

fl904. Mr. and Mrs. Alden W. Baldwin (Helen E. Childs) and their 
daughter Elizabeth have moved from Holyoke to 1243 South 53rd Street, West 
Philadelphia. Mr. Baldwin is an instructor in Mechanical Engineering in the 
Towne Scientific School of the University of Pennsylvania. 

fl906. Marjorie Bellows has changed her address from West Newton 
to 220 Clarendon Street, Boston. 

|1907. Clara Jackson Hukill has entered into partnership with Mi>s 
Margaret Miller in the business of interior decoration, in Cleveland, Ohio. 
They have recently decorated the new rooms of the Women's City Club, and 
one floor of the new addition to the Hotel Statler. Their studio address is 
4500 Euclid Avenue. 

|1909. Edith Gardner is teaching Violin, German and History in the 
Good Will School, Hinckley, Maine. 

fl909. Mary Sweeney is a senior at Radcliffe this year. 
1909. Nora Sweeney is the gymnasium and dancing teacher at Miss 
Edgar's and Miss Cramp's School in Montreal. 

fl910. Ruth Newcomb was counsellor last summer for the second season 
at Camp Apenindis for girls, near Willimantic, Conn. Florence MacCreadie ; 
fl909, was also there. 



fl911. Henrietta Wiest came in October to put her sister Katherine in 
school, and afterwards spent several weeks visiting friends in New England, 
among them Clarissa Hall and Ruth Newcomb. 

fl9 1 1 . Marion Brown writes of her work since graduating at Wellesley 
in 1915. Last year she taught Latin and History in the high school at Stow, 
Mass., and is this year teaching in the high school at Milton, N. H. 

1911. Helen Vail has entered this fall the kindergarten training school 
of the Froebel League in New York City. 

fl912. Evelyn Brewster graduated at Simmons College last June and is 
now secretary in the office of the president of Massachusetts Agricultural 
College, Amherst. 

fl912. Barbara Moore is teaching at Chattanooga, Tenn. She writes: 
"Did you know I'm teaching, too? But have nice, lovable little ones that 
bring me green persimmons to eat because I'm a Yankee and don't know 
better than to bite. I'm having such a good time, but it is funny to be on the 
other side of the fence. I still have to be gently reminded not to put my feet 
on top of my desk or not to vault the railing to get off the porch, but to step 
down the stairs. I'm learning powerful fast, though." 

fl912. Mildred Chutter graduated at Mount Holyoke last June and is 
now teaching at Rochester, N. H. 

fl912. Ruth Draper and Dorothy Simpson are freshmen at Teachers 
College, New York, taking Household Science as major subjects. 

fl913. Esther Pickels, Mount Holyoke 1917, was manager this year of 
the Vacation House for working girls in South Hadley. This is open every 
summer under the charge of the college Y.W.C.A. and certain members are 
there to entertain the guests with all sorts of good times. 

fl914. Hildegarde Gutterson is thoroughly interested in the practical 
study which she is taking up this year in the School of Salesmanship, conducted 
jointly by the Educational and Industrial Union and Simmons College. She 
is required to do practice work in various Boston stores, so as to become 
acquainted with their different methods. Her study will prepare her to be 
an educational director in a store. 

|1914, Elsie Gleason is a junior at Radcliffe this year. She is subscription 
manager of the Radcliffe News, the college weekly paper, is treasurer of the 
Radcliffe Art Club, and played fullback on the Varsity Hockey team this fall. 

fl915. Catherine and Elizabeth Leach are both sophomores at Boston 
University. They are members of the Alpha Delta Pi sorority, and Catherine 
is on the staff of the Beacon, the college magazine. 

fl915. Frances Dowd is taking regular freshman work at Teachers 
College, Columbia University, and is majoring in music. She was given extra 
credit for her work in English at Abbot. She is enjoying her course greatly 
and finds it broader and better suited to prepare her for the position of super- 
visor of music than that of the New York Musical Institute which she took 
last year. 


fl915. Charlotte Morris is at her home in Germantown, Pa., doing 
hospital work and studying music. 

|1915. Marion Barnard studied last year at Pine Manor, the school for 
advanced work connected with Dana Hall. She is now at the Springfield 
Library fitting herself to be a children's librarian. 

11915. Marion Brooks is attending the Garland School in Boston and is 
studying the violin. 

fl916. Charlotte Eaton, Agnes Grant, Grace Merrill, Marion Selden, 
and Helene Sands are freshmen at Smith College. Elizabeth Wood is at Mount 
Holyoke College, and Dorothy Johnson and Esther Van Dervoort are at 
Vassar College. Edith Bancroft and Agnes Leslie are freshmen at Wellesley 

1 1916 Elsa Wade is taking the nurses' training course at the Peter Bent 
Brigham Hospital in Boston, and is doing splendid work there. 

fl916. Vera Allen is studying this year at Miss Wheelock's Kindergarten 
Training School. Her home address is changed to Orris Place, Melrose 

fl916. Helen Warfield's address is 510 Linden Place, Cranford, N. J. 

fl916. Mildred Jenkins is taking the two years course at Drexel Institute 
in Philadelphia, specializing in Domestic Science and Art. 

fl916. Josephine Walker is teaching History and Current Events at 
St. Mary's School in Concord, N. H., and is keeping house for her father. 

fl916. Eleanor Black, who has been keeping a gift-shop in Ohio, is now 
teaching cooking and English to children in a settlement house. 

fl916. Dorothy Dann, who has been Eleanor Black's partner in the gift- 
shop, is going soon with her uncle to the Aviation Field in California. 

fl916. Rachel Foster is studying at Miss Farmer's Cooking School in 

fl916. Lois Erickson and Helene Hardy are studying Domestic Science 
in the Garland School in Boston. 

fl9 16. Louise King has been in the mailing department at Daniel Low's, 
in Salem. 

|1916. Esther Kilton visited Helen Danforth Prudden in Chicago and 
came home very enthusiastic about the charms of little Carol Prudden. 

fl916. Margaret Perry is taking a secretarial course in Boston. 

fl916. Lillian Sword is at an art school in New York City. 

fl916. Dorothy Niles is at the Scidmore School of Practical Arts in 
Saratoga Springs, N. Y. 

fl916. Marjorie Freeman is at her home in Lawrence doing settlement 
work. In the spring she expects to move to Providence, her old home city 

f 1916. Ruth Ottman is at home having a good time and teaching a 
gymnasium class in a settlement school. 

fl916. Eleanor Frary is at a kindergarten school in New York City. 

fl916. Myrtle Dean is taking a business course at the Bryant and Stratton 
School in Boston. 



f 1916. Ruth Lindsay took some courses at Abbot last fall, but because of 
her health she was obliged to give up the work after Christmas. 

1916. Jane Patteson is taking a course in short story writing at Cornell. 

1916. Irene Baush is playing the organ in a church in Springfield and is 
making great progress in her work. 

1916. Barbara Ferguson is at the Garland School in Boston. 

1916. Mildred Kling is taking courses at Simmons College this winter. 

1916. Dorothy Cole is studying this year at St. Margaret's School, 
Waterbury, Conn., where her sister taught for four years. 


Louise Kimball, fl916, Helen Warfield, fl916, Emma Stohn, fl916, 
Martha Hart Moore, |1889, Adelaide Howard Wetherbee, 1871, Alice Fleek 
Miller, 1891, Mary Carter Righter, 1889, Frances Hinckley Quinby, fl897, 
Henrietta Wiest, tl911, Clarissa Hall, fl910, Louise King, fl916, Katharine 
Odell, fl916, Olga Erickson, fl913, Rebecca Newton, fl911, Frances P. Moses, 
fl916, Myra McLean, 1916, Anna Decker French, 1893, Alice Joy Arms, 
fl889, Lydia Skolfield Parsons, t!910, Meriel Thomas, 1916, Barbara Ferguson, 
1916, Dorothy Bigelow, fl911, Esther Kilton, fl916, Norma Allen, fl915, 
Marjorie Freeman, 11916, Jessie Nye Blodgett, fl915, Agnes Leslie, |1916, 
Marion Brooks, fl915, Lillian Sword, |1916, Josephine Walker, fl916, Rachel 
Foster, fl916, Mildred Akerley, fl915, Rena Atwood, fl915, Dorothy Higgins, 
fl916, Eugenia Parker, U916, Alice Prescott, 1916, Charlotte Eaton, fl916, 
Agnes Grant, fl916, Marion Hamblet, fl915, Helen Hamblet, fl914, Ada 
Brewster, 1914, Edith Wade, fl913, Elsa Wade, fl916, Margaret Perry, fl916, 
Helene Hardy, fl916, Lois Erickson, fl916, Irene Baush, 1916, Ruth Moore, 
1916, Grace Duffill, 1916, Dorothy Pillsbury, f!916, Lucy Squire, fl916, 
Charlotte Amsden, fl913, Sylvia Gutterson, fl916, Grace Chapman Spear, 
fl900, Helen Heywood, fl880, Ruth Newcomb, fl910, Agnes Park, |1858, 
Ruth Laton, fl916, Elizabeth Wood, fl916, Katherine Selden, fl914, Marion 
Selden, f!916, Phyllis Brooks, tl915, Esther Parker, fl908, Lucinda Pierce 
Reid, 1871, Elisabeth Bartlett, fl914, Bessie Barr Kimbark, 1895, Edith 
Bancroft, 1916, Harriette Tufts Loring, 1868, Mrs. Reynolds. 


|1897. Marion D. Paine to Dr. Charles Wadhams Stevens of New York 

1905. Myra H. Dean to Mr. Guy Rindge Merrill (Dartmouth 1907) 
of Cambridge. 

1 1907. Marjorie Bond to Mr. J. Edward Crowley of Boston. 
1 19 1 1. Rebecca Hardwick Newton to Mr. Daniel Weedon of North 

fl911. Jessie Wightman to Mr. Louie S. Jones of New Britain, Con- 

fl911. Lillian Walworth to Mr. William S. Sagar. 

fl913. Marion Martin to Mr. Ercell A. Teeson of New York City, a 
graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1915. 
fl913. Olga Marie Erickson to Mr. Paul Rogers Tucker. 

1913. Clara Dore Robinson to Lieut. Austin G. Frick, U. S. A. 

1914. Anna May Burke to Mr. William John Mahony of Sterling. 




fl888. Beach — Walkley. — In Southington, Conn., Oct. 20, 1916, Ellen 
Olive Walkley to President David N. Beach, D. D., of Bangor Theological 
Seminary. At home, Bangor, Me. 

fl894. Dennen — Dearborn. — In Cambridge. November 30, 1916, 
Annie Strout Dearborn to Mr. Fred Eugene Dennen. At home, 29 Brattle 
Street, Cambridge. 

1896. Powers — Farnsworth.— In Lincoln, August 21, 1916, Ida 
Beatrice Farnsworth to Prof. Grover Francis Powers. Address, 1600 Bolton 
St., Baltimore, Md. 

1910. O'Brien — Dole. — In Andover, June 24, 1916, Dorothy Cutter 
Dole to Mr. Frank O'Brien. At home, Adams Hall, Andover. 

1910. Bubb — Jenkins. — In Portland Maine, June 7, 1916, Katherine 
Rust Jenkins to Mr. H. Burrows Bubb. At home, 1036 West Fourth Street, 
Williamsport, Pennsylvania. 

1911. Cooper— Thomas— In New York City, June 20, 1916, Kather- 
ine Trumbull Thomas to Mr. Leslie Bradford Cooper. 

1912. Tukey — Blake. — In Portland, Maine, November 18, 1916, 
Margery Emma Blake to Dr. Philip E. Tukey. At home, Sherman Street, 
Portland, Maine. 

1912. Blanchard — Estabrook. — In Worcester, June 23, 1916, Gladys 
Martha Estabrook to Mr. Edward Payson Blanchard. At home, 1 Allen Street, 

fl913. Estabrook — Perkins. — In Newark, New York, January 27, 
1917, Dorothy Perkins to Mr. Edwin Burk Estabrook. 

1913. Holmes — Hadley. — In Minneapolis, Minnesota, December 27, 
1916, Barbara Dorothea Hadley to Mr. Fred S. Holmes. At home, 800 
Fifth Street, Northwest, Canton, Ohio. 

fl914. Appleby — Winsor. — In Asbury Park, New Jersey, November 
29, 1916, Marie Estell Winsor to Mr. Theodore Franklin Appleby. At home, 
105 Ocean Avenue, Lock Arbour. 

fl914. Lowd — Dean. — In Andover, June 2, 1916, Olive Wanda 
Dean to Mr. Dana Joseph Lowd. At home, 73 Chestnut Street, Andover. 

fl915. Whittemore — Larrabee. — In Roslindale, December 2, 1916, 
Mattie Catlin Larrabee to Mr. Theodore Peters Whittemore. 

1915. Hayes — Davis. — In Worcester, December 13, 1916, Margaret 
Davis to Mr. Raymond Noble Hayes. Address, 43 Lancaster Street, Wor- 


|1896. September 27, 1916, a daughter, Elizabeth, to Mr. and Mrs. 
Harry W. Morgan (Frances Saunders), of Brookline. 

fl900. In Marion, November 30, a daughter, Barbara Ann, to Mr. and 
Mrs. W. Huston Lillard (Ethel Hazen). 

fl902. At Camp Stotsenberg, Philippine Islands, October 18, 1916, a 
daughter, Frances MacCumber, to Captain and Mrs. Frank P. Amos (Kath- 
arine I. Herrick). 



1902. In Lawrence, January 9, 1917, a son, Richard Irving, to Mr. and 
Mrs. Christopher T. Barron (Vivia M. Dearborn). 

fl903. In Billerica, November. 1916, a daughter, Mary Elizabeth, to 
Rev. and Mrs. John Harold Dale (Elizabeth Gilbert). 

fl905. July 9, 1916, a son, Lyndon, to Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Gordon 
Crawford (Frances L. Tyer). 

fl906. August 11, 1916, a son, Lawrence Porter, to Mr. and Mrs. 
Hudson Bridge Hastings. 

fl907. In Manchester, N. H., September 29, 1916, a daughter, Rosa- 
mond, to Mr. and Mrs. Harold S. Taylor (Maria Pillsbury) of Derry, N. H. 

1908. December 20, 1916, a daughter, Ruth Virginia, to Mr. and Mrs. E. 
Perry Manville (Helen E. Chaffee). 

fl910. In Hartford, Conn., January 19, 1916, a son, William Silsby, 
to Mr. and Mrs. Owen Morgan (Emily Silsby). 

fl912. October 4, 1916, a son, Harold Brewster, to Mr. and Mrs. Har- 
old Brewster Bretz (Helen I. Cram). 

fl913. In Hartford, Connecticut, May 2, 1916, a son, Lucius Middle- 
brook, to Mr. and Mrs. Robert Kemble Smith (Marion Middlebrook). 


1836. In Los Angeles, Cal., August 17, 1916, Elizabeth Barnwell, wife 
of the late Henry Flanders, aged ninety-six years. 

1843. In Andover, December 27, 1916, Irene Rowley Draper, wife of 
the late Warren F. Draper. 

1843. In Coulterville, Cal., November 29, 1915, Fanny E. Chase, wife of 
the late Hosea E. Dudley. 

1845. In Cambridge, December 13, 1916, Annie E. S. Gale, wife of the 
late Lyman R. Williston. 

1849. In North Andover, September 11, 1916, Hannah Armstrong 

1853. In Andover, August 1, 1916, Mary Elizabeth Abbott. 

1857. In West Medway, August 28, 1916, Mary E. Ladd, wife of the 
late Rev. John C. Smith. 

1860. In West Andover, November 9, 1916, Mary E. Holt, wife of the 
late Moses Albert Bailey. 

1864. In Methuen, November 4, 1916, Lavinia Barnard, wife of Henry 
K. Flint, of North Andover. 

1867. In Boston, September 7, 1916, Laura Worthington Cobb, M. D., 
for many years a practising physician in Chelsea. 

fl872. In Boston, July 11, 1916, Anna Fuller. 

|1877. In Worcester, October 28, 1916, Adeliza Brainard, wife of Albert 
H. Chaffee. 

1 1899. In Lawrence, October 9, 1916, Harriet Dodson, wife of George 
M. Austin. 

1913. In Andover, November 8, 1916, Helen Lewis. 



fl914. In Andover, October 29, 1916, Elizabeth M. Johnson. 

1914. In Brewer, Maine, December 20, 1916, Madeline Rich Wyman. 

In Memory of Miss Merrill 
The life that is spent for others 

May seem small in its daily round, 
But only in service and loving deeds 

May eternal life be found; 
For example is more than precept, 

And days spent in deeds of love 
Die not when the body turns to dust, 

But shed light on the soul above. 

Sue E. Hertz Howard (1890) 


"Loyalty, sincerity, cheerfulness, fortitude! It is probably in terms such 
as these that those of us who have known Anna Fuller are accustomed to 
think of her." 

So Basil King wrote last July when the news came of the death of Anna 
Fuller, after two years of intense suffering. Many other tributes appeared 
from fellow-writers and friends. We quote more at length from Mrs. Harriet 
Prescott Spofford. 

"With her great spirit she kept fully alive to the last. She was interested 
in all the questions of the day, in suffrage, in the advancement of women, in 
the stage. Her early life in Germany had taught her to love the gentle and 
poetic German people, yet she detested the militarist authority there, and was 
from the beginning of the wicked war an adherent of the Allies. On returning 
home, in those younger days, she for a time taught German and music; she was 
an accomplished pianist, and gave her friends freely the delight of listening to 
the best music. 

"She began her literary work in 1892, publishing "A Venetian June," "A 
Literary Courtship," " Peak and Prairie," and other Colorado sketches, all of 
which met wide welcome, and had great sales. "Pratt Portraits" and "Later 
Pratt Portraits" contain possibly her best work, full as they are of fine delinea- 
tion, incisive wit, tender sympathy and truth to nature, amusing and arresting 
and of supreme literary execution." 


Mrs. Albert H. Chaffee (Adeliza Brainerd), died in Worcester, Saturday, 
October 28. She was born in St. Albans, Vt., July 22, 1857, was a graduate of 
Abbot Academy, and was afterwards a special student at Wellesley College, 
where she took honors in English. She taught school in Middlebury, Vt., for 
three years, and then began to give lectures on History of Art, a subject in 
which she had achieved a brilliant record in the Art course at Abbot Academy. 

Her lectures were at once a marked success. For many years she took 
enthusiastic classes abroad. 

In 1896 she married Mr. Albert H. Chaffee of Worcester, and with the 
exception of these trips abroad and time spent at the Chaffee Studio in New 
York, she lived practically all her married life in Worcester. Mrs. Chaffee 



was one of the privileged lecturers at the Metropolitan Art Museum, and in her 
career as speaker has addressed many of the most important clubs in the 

She was also the author of several books on Art, "Cupid and Psyche in 
Art and Painting" and "The Story of Raphael's Hours" probably being among 
the best known. 

She was a woman of such great charm of manner and of magnificent 
mental attainments that friends and admirers alike are one in voicing regret 
at her passing, and in declaring that her place in the community cannot 
easily be filled. 

Since school opened in October, we have been saddened by the deaths of 
three girls who had but recently been at Abbot. Two of these were Andover 
girls. Elizabeth Johnson, who since her graduation two years ago, had borne 
with wonderful patience and courage, an illness from which she knew she could 
not recover, died on October 29, and ten days later, we heard of the tragic 
death of Helen Lewis, who was instantly killed in an automobile accident. 
Madeline Rich Wyman, of Brewer, Maine, who was in school during the year 
1914-15, died on January 8, after a very short illness. 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, Sc. B., Principal, 

Psychology, Ethics, Theism, Christian Evidences 

KATHERINE R. KELSEY, Assistant Principal, 


History and English 


Literature and History of Art 





Mathematics and Astronomy 


History and Biology. Librarian 




French and Spanish 


Physical Education 

Vocal Expression 


Chorus Music, Piano, Organ and Harmony, History of Music 

Vocal Music 




Drawing and Painting 



Household Science 


Household Science 


Secretary to the Principal 


Supervisor of Day Scholars' Room 


In charge of Draper Hall. 


Resident nurse 


Keeper of Alumnae Records 







School Organizations 

A. C. A. 


Rachel Olmstead 
Charlotte Fleming 
Clarissa Horton 
Cornelia Newcomb 

Student Council 

Charlotte Fleming, 

Elizabeth Bacon 
Marian Chandler 
Esther Davis 
Janet Davis 


Clarissa Horton 
Ruth Jackson 
Rachel Olmstead 
Catherine Yeakle 

Fidelio Society 

President . 
Secretary and Treasurer 

Harriet Balfe 
Ruth Jackson 
Cornelia Newcomb 


Doris Emery 
Louise Bacon 
Elizabeth Doolin 
Katherine Pinckney 
Margaret Van Voorhis 

Julie Sherman 
Bernice Boutwell 
Helen French 
Louise Stilwell 
Virginia Vincent 

AtKletic Association 

President . 

Gertrude Goss 
Mary Church 
Harriet Murdock 
Esther Hungerford 

BasHetball Team 


Gertrude Goss 
Mary Church 

Glee Club 


Esther Davis 
Harriet Balfe 

Class Organizations 

Senior, *17 

President . . . . . . Elizabeth Bacon 

Vice-President Catherine Yeakle 

Secretary Doris Emery 

Treasurer Janet Davis 

Class flower, Violet Class colors, Purple and white 

Class motto: "Live pure, speak true, right the wrong, 
follow the king." 

Senior Middle 

President ....... 

Vice-President ...... 

Secretary ...... 

Treasurer ...... 

Class flower, Yellow rose 


Ruth Eaton 
Martha Swalm 
Marion McPherson 
Elizabeth Holmes 
Class colors, Yellow and white 

Class motto: Ad astra per aspera 

Junior Middle, '19 

President Virginia McCauley 

Vice-President Katherine Coe 

Secretary Margaret Clark 

Treasurer Cora Erickson 

Class flower, Rose Class colors, Old Rose and silver 

Juniors, '19 

President ....... Catherine Greenough 

Vice-President Grace Prescott 

Secretary Julia Abbe 

Treasurer Margaret French 

Class flower, Lily-of-the- Valley 

Alumnae Association 



Mrs. Elizabeth Nichols Bean Mrs. Ellen Chamberlain Blair 

Mrs. Josephine Richards Gile Mrs. Laura Barron Brainerd 

Mrs. Rebecca Davis Spaulding Miss Josephine Wilcox 

Miss Emily A. Means 

Secretary and Treasurer 
Miss Agnes Park 

Committee on Appropriations 

Miss Bertha Bailey 

Miss Agnes Park 




Compliments of 



T. F. MORRISSEY & SON, Proprietors 


Expressing and Jobbing 

Carriages and Hacks for Funerals, Weddings and Receptions 
Depot Work a Specialty 


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She pushed through the turnstile and ran down each step, 
Stopped for an instant to read all the signs, 

Then on and on with more and more "pep", 

But no South Station car, though many car lines. 


She hailed some brass buttons that calmly replied 

"Down the steps to your right, behind the news-stand." 

So on down more steps she hurriedly plied, 

Then to the right, clutching her purse in her hand. 




Home Made Food of All Kinds 


M. E. DALTON, 42 Main St., ANDOVER 






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No. Her car is not here, but more brass buttons say, 
"Up these stairs to the left." Ah, yes, this is the place. 

Through the mad rushing crowd, she at last makes her way, 
Tumbling into the car, nearly falls on her face. 


There she stands in the jam, held stiff by the crowd, 
Awaiting the call, "South Station, next stop!" 

When she suddenly paled, as white as a shroud, 

For the cry came, "North Station, all off at this stop!" 

M. E. W. 

Reid & Hughes Company 


We Specialize on 

Ladies' Ready-to-wear Goods 
F\ill Line of Outer and Under Garments 
Ribbons, Laces, Millinery and Art Goods 

We Cheerfully Refund Money When Our Merchandise 
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All kinds of FRUIT in their season 



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I have a little doggie that goes in and out with me, 

He tracks mud up and down the house — it is a sight to see, 

He licks your hands when they are clean and dirties up your clothes 

And into everything around he pokes his cold, wet nose. 

He seems extremely little when he's stood by Jack's great Dane, 

But yet, though such a little chap, right through and through he's game. 

He'll tackle the biggest dog on the street and challenge him to fight, 

Then take a grip on his lower jaw — and hold with all his might. 

C. R. McR. 


Myerscough & Buchan 


Telephone 208 

Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

Compliments of a Friend 


Successors to W. F. RUTTER & CO. 

Steam, Water & Gas Piping 
Supplies and Tools 


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A LowFire Insurance Rate 

Is a Direct Result of Decreased 
Fire Hazard 

Improve Your Building Thereby 
Reducing Your Insurance Cost 

Mutual Fire Insurance Co. 

(Incorporated 1828) 


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Sporting and Mufti Dress 

For Every Occasion 

13-15 Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

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Must be well-fitting — we assume 
the responsibility and take pride 
in offering YOU a perfect fit 

Abbot Students are urged to become 
familiar with our service 


47 Temple Place 15 Water Street 

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Kodak and Photo Supplies Expert Bicycle Repairing 

H. F. CHASE - - Andover, Mass. 




Musgrove Bldg., Andover, Mass. 





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Your needs in Photographic Work 
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June, 1917 










Resurgam 3 

Gwendolen Brooks, 1918 
Why 4 

Julie Pfingst Sherman, CP. 1918 
O Castle Old 5 

Carita Bigelow, CP. 1917 
"To Be or Not to Be" 6 

Bernice Boutwell, 1917 
At the Call of His Country 7 

Lucy Atwood, 1917 

An Incident 10 

Kathryn Cooper, 1919 
Sunrise .12 

Sally Humason, CP. 1917 
The Opening of School from the Point of View of the Baggage Man . . 14 

Elizabeth Holmes, CP. 1918 
The "Olympian" 16 

Julie Pfingst Sherman, CP. 1918 
To a Chinese Dog 18 

Dorothy Baxter, 1917 
The Night 19 

Elizabeth Holmes, CP. 1918 
En Avant 21 

Virginia Vincent, 1918 
On an Ocean Trip 23 

Katherine Chen, CP. 1918 
The Cedar Swamp 24 

Katherine Weld, 1921 
The Heirloom 25 

Katherine Righter, 1918 
How Rhythmic Expression Came to Abbot 27 

Sally Humason, CP. 1917 , and Catherine McReynolds, CP. 1918 
Ponce de Leon and the Fount of Youth 28 

Catherine McReynolds, CP. 1918 

Editorials 29 

School Journal 34 

Alumnae Notes 47 

The price of the Courant is one dollar a year; single copies fifty cents. 
All communications made to the Business Editors will be promptly attended to. 


Soari) nf Efcitora 

Cttrrarg lEbttors 



BooittpBB E&ttoro 



Vol. XLIII JUNE, 1917 No. 2 


Long have I lain in that dull corner forgotten, 
My colors faded, my golden cord tarnished. 
Yet once have I stirred men's blood, 
And brought forth shouts of admiration — love 
The Emblem of Mv Countrv. 

At last the strong wind penetrates my deepest folds, 
The warm sun brightens my colors. 
Again I unfurl, heralding to the world — 
The Spirit of America. 

Gwendolen Brooks, 1918 

Hans had ordered the last house to be burned and the last 
villager to be shot and he was weary and discouraged by the day's 

He sat at a small table in a portable hut, officer's headquarters 
in the village, and gazed drearily out through the window at the 
lounging soldiers in front of the various, dirty, desolate, portable 

He was tired of canned fruits, condensed milk and bacon. 
He was tired of death, of slaughter, of cruelty. He was tired of 
scanty rations and weary, drawn out days. He was tired of 
tramping always on, on, on. He was tired of having his com- 
panions shot at his very side in the trenches. He was tired of 
war, desolation, destruction and the cries of women and children. 

Hans wearily put his head in his arms and closed his eyes. 
A blue bottle-fly buzzed persistently at his ear but he heeded 
it not. He had gone back to that glorious, first day, when Maria, 
with little Fritz in her arms and Gretel clinging to her dress, had 
waved good-bye to him from the garden gate. Then he had gone 
forth to parade, in his gorgeous uniform, thrilled by the shouting 
crowds, the banners waving in the bright sun. He had been 
young; life was good ; it was for his country, the Kaiser and Maria. 
He must protect Maria and the children. It was a good cause 
and he, a valiant man, and, in the fullness of his heart, he shouted 
"Hoch der Kaiser," with the rest. He had killed men because he 
must. That was part of the day's work. It was for the great 
Kaiser. He in his child-like trust knew no cause other 
than the protection of his home and the betterment of the 
Fatherland. Long live the Kaiser! 

Then, one day, early in May, a message had come to Hans, 
all on a sunny May morning. Maria, little Fritz and Gretel 
had been killed by a shell and his little home, where he had been 
so happy, was no more. 

The sun went out of the sky for Hans when it left his heart. 
He saw red. He killed now for revenge, for the mere lust for 
human blood. 

But Hans was tired. 



Hans stood up resolutely by the small table, his revolver 
clutched in his fingers. He closed the door and firmly placed his 
back against it. For a moment he looked curiously into the 
muzzle of the revolver and then, a shot echoed through the de- 
serted hut. 

Julie Pfingst Sherman, C. P. 1918 

(D, Castle <Di6 

O castle old, with echoing halls, 
What quick, soft foot-falls sound upon thy floors 
At twilight when the sun is set ! 
What low, sweet murmurings of forgotten voices 
Blend with the rustlings of the trees. 

O castle old, when the eve is cool, 
Whisper thy memories long untold ! 

Carita Bigelow, C. P. 1917 

"Ho Be or Hot to Be' 

Hamlet once had a question to decide, "To be or not to be." 
In our time the men who are about to run for public office have 
just this question to decide. And if to be, "how to be." For ex- 
ample, the man running for mayor decides "to be," and it takes 
but a short time to see how he has decided "to be." Too often 
the hale-fellow-well-met expression fairly radiates from the face 
from which the faintest glimmer of a genial nature has failed to 
flicker before. It's a slap on the back here and a slap on the back 
there. Each labourer or city employee is made to feel that his 
opinion is the only one that counts and the times are not few 
when he finds a dime in his hand and they part with smiles and 
understanding glances as the contestant says, "Oh, just one on 
me, you know." As the artist by touches completes his painting, 
so this politician by a hint there, and a faint suggestion here, 
brings out the whole. 

And these are the men whom we permit "to be" in our 
cities. They who receive the vote of the labourer and in return 
permit him the trashy movie theater where his wife and children 
waste their time and little money, and the saloon to which his 
son gives not only his time and money, but his strength. 

In the meantime some of those people who could see clearly 
and help to undeceive the ignorant stand by and shake their 
heads in perplexity. How long will it be before they stand up 
and ask, " If you are to be, how are you to be? And if you are not 
interested in the welfare of the people then you are 'not to be' !" 

Bernice Boutwell, 1917 

Ctt tfye Call of ^is Country 

" Banish the glums, Pep! Banish the glums! The Germans 
can't dissect you till you get there anyhow." 

A roar of laughter shot up from the Fraternity dining- 
room as the fellows were eating their evening meal. The idea of 
Pep, their football hero, being dissected! To begin with he was 
too good-natured. As Bob Ginn had said, if a German saw 
Pep's grin he wouldn't have the heart to shoot within the radius 
of a mile of him. 

But Pep didn't know he was their hero — if he did he had 
forgotten. He knew that he was leaving for France the next 
day; that he was going to serve his country, as for the past four 
years he had served his college. 

"What's she done to you now, Pep?" ventured a young 
Freshman jokingly. 

At this Pep forced an apology for his usual jolly grin and to 
all but Jim, his room-mate, was himself again. The five that 
were leaving their midst to answer the call of their country were 
gay and cheerful. Yes, perhaps more so than usual, and when 
they left the dining-room they gatherered around the open fire in 
the lounging-room. Once more Pep was the center of the group. 
They talked of war — not the horrors of war but the victories — 
of the scientific development the war is bringing about; of the 
wonderful feats of engineering; of air-craft; and of the Peace 
that will follow all. 

"Don't forget to pack your fraternity pins," challenged one 
voice, and in mock ceremony the owner went the rounds to 
check up the five pins. Pep set his jaw as he displayed his. How 
proud he had been of that bit of jewelry four years ago. He 
had wanted every body to see it then, but now — well, he had 
hoped that Somebody else would be wearing it when he left for 

Pep sauntered over to a window. He was thinking of the 
other battles he had risked his life for — of the last great college 
victory they had had; of how every fellow had done his share 
and of the great big feeling he had had when it was over. He had 
forgotten everything in his race for victory that day and had 



given himself, heart and soul, to his college. He told himself — 
as he gazed through the drizzling rain at the cold, wet street — 
that he'd forget everything now and help win this fight for his 

As he stood there trying to forget he felt the pressure of a 
hand on his arm. It was Jim. Neither looked at the other. 
But they were both thinking of a slender young girl with soft 
brown eyes and wavy dark hair. The one was thinking of the 
little sister he was leaving behind in this country, the other of a 
beautiful young woman. 

"Come on," suggested Jim. 


"Oh, just out — it will do us both good." Pep knew that 
his friend understood, and obeyed his summons. 

Out there in the slippery, shiny streets nobody cared whether 
he talked ; nobody expected him to live up to that awful reputa- 
tion of a jolly good fellow. Each walked on wrapt in his own 
thoughts, his hat pulled over his eyes, and his collar turned up 
around his ears. As they stopped under a street light to let 
several motors pass Pep noticed that it was misting but that didn't 
matter either. It gave a sympathetic feeling. He realized ho* T 
good the flowers must feel in the springtime, when the rain 
pours down on them. Suddenly they entered the entrance of a 

"Got to see a relative of mine before I leave," Jim ex- 
plained. "Come on, I won't be long!" 

Soon they found themselves in an apartment — waiting. 
A door opened somewhere and they heard a man's voice in the 
hall-way. Jim excused himself. The voice, although different 
from his own father's, made Pep think of his home in the middle 
West. He gazed before him into space, but what he saw was his 
father and mother sitting in the little den at home, the former 
reading his evening paper, the latter knitting for him or some- 
body else's boy. Then he heard a slight rustle in the door way. 

"Like to have you meet my relative. Pep," beamed Jim as 
he announced his sister. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jean exclaimed intuitively as she caught 
a glimpse of Pep's face. "Did you think I wasn't coming? I 



should have answered your letter and told you I could see you 
to-night but I — oh I just wanted to surprise you." 

Jim's role in the little drama was over and closing the door 
behind him he joined his father and mother in the next room. 

Late that night he heard Pep come into their room at the 
Fraternity House. He saw him standing by the window, again 
looking out on the shiny wet street. But the stars were twinkling 
overhead this time and as Pep turned around Jim saw a light in 
his eyes that was shining too. It was the reflection of his manhood 
radiating from them. As Pep squared his shoulders and set his 
jaw, Jim knew that his friend's life was at the service of his 

Lucy Atwood, 1917 

Ctn 3ncibent 

Every one was excited in the little town of Beaumont — 
excited about a man. Just one, plain, and to all outward ap- 
pearances, ordinary man. The man, however, possessed a quality. 
It was not a common quality, and no name was given to it. In 
simple words, this man had the ability to make people laugh. 
The eyes of the gruffest of men brightened as they heard him. 
Around him, all of the little children would gather. He was a 
veritable "Pied Piper" among them. The mothers held their 
babies to the windows — to see him go by. Even the dogs recog- 
nized him and followed him about. 

Now this man was a stranger in the little town and a very 
mysterious stranger, too. He gave no name but was known by 
the one that he had gained, which was, "The man who makes us 

Up a dark street, glistening with the drizzling rain and 
mist, a man was walking. As he passed under an occasional 
dim lamp-post, one could see that his shoulders stooped and that 
he carried himself in a dejected manner. 

He wended his way across a muddy side street and a few 
steps farther on, he turned to his left and went up the walk of an 
old house of dark brown stone, bearing a doctor's sign on the 
door. A cheerful light gleamed at the top of the long flight of 
steps. The man rang the bell and was admitted by a rosy- 
cheeked servant. After a wait of two or three minutes, the doctor, 
a kind, comfortable sort of man, entered, rubbing his hands 
briskly together. 

"This is a bad night," he remarked, "a typical November 

The man eyed him wearily. 

"And can I do something for you?" the Doctor inquired. 

"Yes," assented the man in tired tones. "I am melancholy. 
Everything bores me. I am not interested in anything that goes 
on around me. I am continually depressed." 

The doctor regarded him thoughtfully for a second. 

"Ah, I have it!" he exclaimed. "You have heard of that 
clown in the village, I suppose?" 


The man nodded. 

"I have not seen him myself," continued the doctor. "But 
people say that he has the power of softening the hardest of 
hearts and gladdening the saddest. Go to him, and if what I 
have heard is true, he may do you some good." 

The man looked into the cool, gray eyes of the kind old 
doctor for a full moment before he replied: "Sir, I am that 

Kathryn Cooper, 1919 


Sick at heart, discouraged, utterly weary with life and the 
world, the man sat in his dingy little room and thought it over. 
No, there was no alternative — the only means of rest or escape 
was death. "The act of a coward," he would have called it in 
his better days, but now the only thing left to do. 

Once he had been happy and comfortably situated and it 
had been good to live. Then suddenly, without warning, the 
girl he loved had been killed and he, trying to forget, had specu- 
lated blindly and lost all his money. He had failed to find 
employment and started drinking. At last, driven by hunger 
and the craze for drink, he had been forced to steal. Then it was 
that he came to himself, realized how far he had gone, and 
decided that Death was the kindest and most generous friend 
he had left. 

He was sober and quite clear-headed as he sat there, think- 
ing. The plan of suicide was not the product of his drink-crazed 
brain. It was a calm and dispassionate choice between two 
evils — to die or to go on living. Suddenly some words of a 
long-forgotten friend, a man whom he had once admired, came 
back to him: "Ever see a sunrise, boy? Well, if you ever feel 
utterly down and out, go and watch one." Somehow the idea 
took his fancy. He didn't remember ever having seen a sunrise. 
Not that it would make any difference in his plans — he had 
decided to kill himself and that decision was unchangeable, but, 
after all, one day was not very much in all eternity, and, smiling 
half whimsically, he might watch one sunrise on the earth. 

The next day, at about two in the morning, he started for a 
hill he knew of, outside the city. It was still deep night and the 
stars, crystal clear, gave promise of a glorious day to come. It 
was rather a long walk, but he had known the way well once 
and he found it now with no trouble. He reached the summit of 
the hill at last, stumbling over rocks and roots of trees, and 
settled down, facing the east and cursing himself for an utter fool. 

A long time he sat in darkness and he began to think it was 
never going to lift. Then there came a tiny streak of gray in 
the east which slowly broadened. The brilliant stars paled and 



faded, trees became visible, with bushes and rocks and the dim 
outlines of farmhouses far below. Into the heart of the watching 
man came an indescribable feeling of pain that was sadness, yet 
different from the terrible bitterness he had felt before. The 
whole countryside was now plainly visible. The man could see 
smoke rising from the chimneys, and a milk-cart on the road 
far below, jogging on its daily round. The sights and sounds — 
the twittering of the awakening birds, the rumbling of the wagons, 
the rustle of a little breeze which was scampering through the 
treetops, all seemed to tell of Life, Life, Life. The grayness of 
the east changed slowly to pink, the pink to crimson which 
tinged the edges of three little fluffy, white clouds, floating just 
above the horizon line. It all brought a sense of joy to the man 
(to him who had thought he could never be glad again) — joy 
and a great desire to be a part of this living, breathing, waking 
world. He stood up and took off his cap, letting the breeze blow 
through his hair. He smiled and his smile held all the sights and 
sounds and color, even the fluffy clouds, tinged with pink. He 
would go back to the city; he would find work; he would pay 
back the money he had stolen; he would be a part of the busy 
world — he would live ! 

He started down the hillside and at the same time the sun 
burst forth, flooding the land with a swimming, dancing, golden 
light and proclaiming to the world the glory and promise of a 
New Day. 

Sally Humason, CP. 1917 

Cfye (Dpentng of School from tfye Point of View of tfye 
Baggage TXlan 

Say, Mike, will ya take a look at that there trunk! That's 
some trunk I'm a-tellin' ya. Gimme a hand-up. That's the stuff. 
Ain't that patented ward -robe thing a dandy? Seems like as 
they have more'n ever of 'em this year. 

Say, ain't ya glad school's opened? Ya aint? Well, ya can 
jest bet I am. Gives me lots to do, an' the more ya have the 
more money ga git. Holy Mackinaw, ye're always grumblin'! 
Why, sure, it's a lot of work — but ta tell the truth I like this 
job. When ya see all these youngsters rushin' aroun' so excited- 
like an' worryin' for fear they won't git their trunks all right, an' 
then when we just go in and get their trunks up ta school all 
right an' good an' stop 'em from worryin,' why, ya jest feel kind 
o' responsible-like. Ya jest feel like as th' school can't open right 
without ya there ta see 'bout th' trunks an' things. An' then — 
their excitement is ketchin'. I get 'most as 'xcited as they do. 
Well, I'm not talkin' 'bout you — I'm talkin' about me, and 
that's what I think — see? I don't care what ya think. 

All ready? Git up Romulus! Up, Remus! Ain't them 
swell names fer horses? I learned them names last Christmas 
when all th' youngsters were goin' home fer th' holidays, onct 
when I was takin' a trunk off fer th' special. Ya can learn lots 
o' things drivin' round with th' baggage if ya jest keep yer 
ears open. An' — I do like them names. Makes 'em step livelier, 
an' you bet we'll have to step lively ta git all that there pile of 
stuff up ta school. 

Look at all th' swell cars an' limysines in front o' Draper! 
How'd ya like ta ride in one o' them wagons? Say, I'll bet 
Henry's makin' lots of money with his taxis takin' th' girls up 
here. Sure, they all ride up th' first day. 

Say, will ya look at them girls! Yeh — ain't they 'xcited! 
They must be old girls, them as is runnin' round so wild-like an' 
screamin'. My, they must love each other! Ya'd think they'd 
been away years! I feel kind o' sorry fer some o' them new girls. 
But jest ya wait till Christmas an' they'll be excited too. 



Say, some o' these girls make me mad. They want every- 
thing right here, quicker'n a wink — immejately, an' they 
think they're the only ones as have trunks I guess. Why can't 
they have it now, they'd like ta know, an' — why, they sent it 
Sunday, so it oughta be here now. Like as not it's lyin' buried 
under the pile at the station because it was sent Sunday and got 
here 'fore she got here with her check. These things do make ya 
mad sometimes, 'specially when Romulus is limping under the 
heavy load. 

Well, we've gotta hustle ta git all them trunks up. Say, 
we've been workin' hain't we? I tell ya, th' school couldn't open 
properly without us — now, could it? No, sir! 

Git up there, Remus! 

Elizabeth Holmes, C. P. 1918 

Cfye "Olympian" 

Back again in the "Old Commons" dining-room eating 
Saturday night ham and baked beans and listening to the racket 
the boys made with their forks and knives! Back again in the 
"Old Commons" dining-room watching Julius, in his white 
coat, bring the cups of steaming hot chocolate (which we always 
insisted was two-thirds hot water) from the kitchen! Back again 
in the "Old Commons"! It was too good to be true! I grew care- 
free. I almost thought I was one of the boys again. 

"Did I see Bob make that catch that won the game this 
afternoon? Well I guess! And let me tell you, old man, that was 
as pretty a catch as I ever saw," I heard myself saying enthus- 
iastically to a tow-headed youth three or four places removed from 
me down the long table. 

A roar of laughter burst out at the further end of our table. 
"Awkward Steve" had dropped a piece of ham he was serving, 
into the milk pitcher. And one of the Prom girls was in the dining- 
room! Horrors! 

It was June, and commencement, at my old school and I had 
come back to live over the old care-free days of my boyhood. 
I had been to the baseball game that afternoon and had shouted 
with the best of them, clapped a red-headed chap on the back 
when " Bob " made the winning catch and been properly awed by 
"Burke's pretty sister," and "Dick's cousin who's the best 
sport ever." Then I had visited the old study hall where so 
many feet had resounded and where I discovered my initials on 
one of the worst-looking desks. This room dated back to a time 
even before the Revolution and we were rightly proud of the 
battle-scarred desks and the smudgy black-boards. I had stood 
at the west window watching the last rays of the setting sun and 
been forced to make myself properly insignificant and retreat 
in good order when the famous football captain came striding 
proudly in with his "girl" and I heard him say as I creaked 
down the stairs — "And this is where the old fellow flunks us. 
Deucedly dismal spot I call it." Years from now he, too, would 
stand at one of the windows where the last mellow ray of sunlight 



flickered through the dingy pane and then he would know. But 
now — 

I had clattered down the stairs and nearly upset four young 
"captain-worshippers" advancing stealthily to an advantageous 
spot where their hero might be closely observed. "Little 
rascals!" I thought good humoredly as I swung down the steps. 

Now supper was over and with a general pushing back of 
chairs and banging of doors, the whole school trooped noisily 
out. A group of boys gathered around the piano to sing, others in 
groups of four and five wandered across the campus in the twilight 
their arms linked and their voices raised in the care-free, joyous 
exuberance of just being alive. The older boys, comprising the 
dance committee, adjourned to the gym to be sure the ice cream 
had arrived, the decorations were in their proper places, and the 
floor was as slippery as possible, before they started to dress for 
the evening. 

I strolled across the campus and leaned against the old Senior 
fence under the apple tree, my evening cigar in my hand. The 
frogs croaked dismally in the gathering gloom from the marshes, 
and a sense of desolation and loneliness stole over me. Some- 
where a tenor voice was singing "The Girl I Left Behind Me." 
And somewhere another voice far across the campus took it up. 

My illusion on the sunlit field, that I was again a boy, had 
vanished. I felt as though I had never been so old. My forty 
years fairly weighed me down. As a boy I had regarded my mas- 
ters and my elders as troublesome beings, who simply had to be, 
who never did anything wrong, who were, in short, superior 
beings, dwelling on an Olympus of their own. A blinding terror 
seized me. Could it be that I, too, in the eyes of these boys whom 
I so wanted to be one of, was an Olympian? 

A hand clapped me on the back. A cheery young voice 
broke in upon my meditations: — 

"Father, come on! The fellows are waiting. You've got 
to put up that moon in the gym. You're at least half a head 
taller than the headmaster. And, Dad, the fellows wanted to 
know if you'd please cast your eye over the ice cream! If we 
can't get rid of it all we'll lose out on the money end . And Burke's 
sister says you must dance with her! Come on." 



Arm in arm my son and I strolled across the campus and 
somehow the frogs had lost their dismal croak. They seemed to 
be laughing. Do you suppose they really were? 

Julie Pfingst Sherman, C. P. 1918 

Co a (£fytnese Dog 

I thought of you as I tossed on my bed, 
Of your big blue eyes and your ears so red, 
The painted spots on your lean, lank sides, 
The curl of your tail, a puppy's pride. 
Pray, dear Chinese dog, what would you say 
If you could speak in your own queer way. 

The tales you could tell I'm sure are a score; 

They must worry your brain forevermore. 

For they can't come out on the tip of your tongue 

Nor escape to the ears of anyone. 

But poor old doggie, don't look so sad 

Be thankful you haven't a chance to be bad\ 

Dorothy Baxter, 1917 

My pen scratched loudly over the heavy, cream-colored, 
gold-embossed stationery Bertollini had given me. As I came 
to the end of the long letter I had just written home, the quiet- 
ness of the place stole over me, I could almost hear the silence. 
A little breeze danced through a French window, and the perfume 
of a nosegay of violets was wafted towards me as they lay for- 
gotten on the tiled floor. Why was everything so quiet? Some- 
where in the distance two silvery chimes rang out. Two o'clock 
in the morning! I tiptoed to one of the doors and looked out. 

Dear Reader, have you ever found yourself alone in a beauti- 
ful palace, alone to enjoy and explore? Have you never dreamed 
of marble halls — mysterious places, ancient and beautiful? It 
seemed that the dreams of my childhood were coming true — 

" I dreamed I dwelt in marble halls " Perhaps I was only 

dreaming now — whether dream or reality, I was going to make 
the best of my opportunity. There seemed to be no living thing 
in the place — it all was wonderfully quiet. I knew not why 
the place had become so suddenly quiet — I did not care. The 
long, wide vistas of marble halls stretched before me, great 
archways beckoned to me to come and see what lay beyond. 

The very walls spoke to me, the palace seemed a living 
thing, peacefully sleeping in the night. What strange things 
must have happened here during the centuries, what famous 
people must have paced these very halls! And this very night, 
had there not been a great party of the Italian nobility in these 
same, silk-hung rooms? I knew I must hasten for it was late — 
very late. If I could only find the terrace unoccupied! 

Almost breathlessly I found the ballroom — deserted. 
Where had the villainous-looking, picturesque musicians gone? 
Where the Italian street-singer Bertollini had had to amuse his 
guests? Only an hour before I had danced in that golden ball- 
room — what mad, lilting music had floated out onto the terrace. 
And the women — those dark-eyed, proud Italians — how they 
had fascinated me with their gay little gestures! And their 
gallant escorts — where had they all gone? Ah, well, I should 



hasten to the terrace, that spot which has made Bertollini's 
palace one of the most beautiful in Europe. 

Night enfolded the place in mystery — there was no one in 
sight. It felt good to be alone for a change — just for one minute 
to look over the great Bay of Naples. Far, far below it seemed. 
The lights along the shore gleamed like so many pearls upon a 
cloth of dusky velvet, and the moon rippled out a silvery path 
across the bay. Fairyland — nothing could have been more 
beautiful. And there, far to the left, Vesuvius raised its haughty 
crater — flickering smoke rolled out against the star-hung sky. 
What majesty and beauty! The quietness everywhere was full 
of wonder. Ah — this was no time to be out looking over the 
Bay, giving the reins to one's imagination. To-morrow in the 
morning with the sun dazzling over everything, turning Naples 
into a golden city — then I would come to the terrace again. 
The night was too black, too haunting. I turned, and fled, 
back through the marble halls, back to my cheerful room, 
leaving the Bay behind, gleaming in the moonlight. 

Elizabeth Holmes, CP. 1918 

<£n (Xvant 

He was thinking, as he stood on the aviation field waiting 
for orders, of the day he left America for France. The fellows 
had been great and had tried to make his departure jolly. They 
had failed utterly, and shown to him their love, awkwardly 
trying to cover their emotions with jests. He remembered, and 
he rather winced as the thought came to him, he remembered his 
leaving home. His last look at the dear old place had shown his 
mother looking from the veranda and waving. Her little face 
was bravely struggling to smile and her eyes blinked away the 
tears which rolled down her cheeks. That was the way she had 
always been, trying to seem happy and make the best of every- 

Bob was startled from his reveries by a hand clapped on his 
shoulder and a voice speaking, in broken English. "Mon 
camarade, le capitaine will be very please to see you." 

Rob touched his cap to the speaker and went to his superior 
officer to receive orders. The capitain told him of a rather dan- 
gerous scouting flight to be made. Rob's eyes shone with eager- 
ness as he said in leaving, "I'll do my best, Sir." 

The next day having looked over his machine and found 
every bolt secure he procured the necessary map which he was to 
use in recording his observations. While waiting for supplies 
he carved the words, "En avant," his family motto, on the 
spar, and fastened an American flag in his button-hole. The day 
was misty and the air heavy, but Rob, his mind engrossed by 
his expedition, was not prevented from making an early start. 
While ascending, he imagined the rushing air challenged him to 
some unknown kind of battle; and with a watchful eye for enemy 
aircraft, he flew over dangerous territory. Higher and higher 
he went until his machine was lost in the mist, to the world below. 

As noon approached the mist cleared and he had to be more 
careful lest the enemy sight him. He used his glasses at inter- 
vals and made a careful search of the land beneath. It revealed 
unmistakable signs of fresh encampment and a point many miles 
beyond held his attention. It was on the border of the French 
territory. If he went nearer to observe it, a shot from an anti- 



aircraft gun might reach him, but if that dark spot which at- 
tracted him should happen to be a reinforcement, his discovery 
of it would change the present strategic plans adopted by the 
French. These thoughts passed through his mind but something 
else urged him on, that inexpressible longing for adventure. His 
glance rested on the words which he had carved only that morn- 
ing: "En avant" — forward, forward, forward perhaps into — . 
He used his glasses again and found that the dark spot moved. 
His fears were realized, and he marked the map at once. Just 
then something happened — an aeroplane of the enemy flew 
toward him. Rob made a quick and daring turn. There was no 
time to waste, the plans must be saved for on them rested the 
safety of many lives. His enemy gained upon him though he did 
his best to elude him. He was fighting for every inch, daring to 
do things he had never tried before. Suddenly the huge bird- 
like object bore down upon him with sickening rapidity. A shot 
rang out; there was a jerk and the machine dropped. Rob felt 
the grey mist cool against his cheeks, he seemed to be borne 
along on a cloud — he wondered whither. En avant ! Forward — 
to an eternity of peace. 

Far, far below in the world of strife and battle, a broken 
aeroplane and the body of an aviator had fallen. The plans 
which were to save a French army were found in the debris along 
with an American flag and a sliver of wood, carved with the 
words — En avant. 

Virginia Vincent, 1918 

(Dn an (Deean {Trip 

The moon is shining bright 

In this cool summer night, 

While we are crossing the ocean wide ; 

Now we sing with good cheer, 

Our voices round and clear, 

Our happiness we cannot hide. 

All things at last will change, 
And so is this night strange; 
Our hearts become a little dreary, 
Thinking of the times gone by. 
To a strange country draw nigh, 
This is what makes us sad and weary. 

Again, we think of the moon, 

To home she'll take our boon, 

Now we are glad and go to sleep ; 

And our hearts become light 

In this cool summer night, 

On the water deep, God will us keep. 

Katherine Chen, CP. 1918 

Cfye (£ebar Swamp 

Behind a boat-house, in some woods by a lake, is the place 
we call the "Cedar Swamp." It rests in the hollow of some little 
hills which are thickly wooded with big black, swaying pine-trees, 
oaks, and maples and quantities of little pert cedar trees. That's 
why we call it the "Cedar Swamp." It is a delight to look at 
on a hot summer's day. The water isn't muddy like most swamps, 
but clear and cool, and filled with little frogs and pollywogs. 
The water surrounds little hummocks with long grass, cowslips 
and under-brush growing on some, and blue-eyed grass, pitcher- 
plant, wild snapdragon and long, tangly cat-briar, on others. 
The water ripples around many little moss-covered rocks. 

In the water, bobbing up and down and filling the whole 
woods with their fragrance, are big, pure white pond-lilies. 
Around the edges of the swamp grow scarlet cardinal-flowers and 
the flaming butterfly-weed, against a background of huge, thick, 
green ferns. There is usually a log floating about with a little 
black vsnapping-turtle sitting on it, or a fat, black water snake, 
coiled carelessly. 

The woods about the swamp ring with the voices of thrushes, 
song-sparrows and hundreds of other birds, and the chatter of 
squirrels. There are little whirly-gigs of gnats in the air, and big 
grey herons flop from tree to tree. Vivid little king-fishers 
swoop and dart after fishes. The whole place is like a dream. 

Katherine Weld, 1921 

Cfye ^eirloom 

It was the day before Christmas. The snow had been falling 
all the afternoon and was coaxed into little drifts on the terraces 
by the wind. 

Down the avenue strode a well dressed young man of about 
twenty-four, his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his coat 
collar turned up in order to keep the snow out. 

"Bz-z-z! but it's cold! and a nice mess I'm in too! It's the 
limit to be engaged — er — a I mean to a girl that has every- 
thing," he hastily finished. "Now what on earth am I to give 
her? Pins, bracelets, fans — has a million already; book, hair- 
pins — Oh I say, old man, come back to earth! What's the use 
of having a Sister if — " 

He had neared the shopping district and was suddenly 
drawn out of his reverie by seeing a store that he had never 
happened to notice before. As he neared the window his curi- 
osity turned into genuine delight, for he saw in the window al- 
most everything a person might wish. 

"Well, this is luck!" he joyfully exclaimed in a whisper. 
"Wonder who the good soul is that has come to my rescue!" and 
he backed off in order to read the red sign above his head on 
which was printed in large gold letters "5 and 10 Cent Store." 

"Hah, Hah! Isn't this jolly?" and with boyish haste he en- 
tered the store. Making his way down the aisles, he earnestly 
examined all things needful to make happy a beautiful woman, and 
finally ended in the china department. The little sales girl, who 
finally helped him select a heavy- looking blue and white cup and 
saucer, was greatly awed by his enthusiasm and good looks. 
"Con won't mind," he thought. "But — wow! what will Sis 

* * * * 

Christmas Day dawned bright and clear. After breakfast 
Constance and her father went into the drawing room to open 
their presents. Constance had many friends who had remembered 
her that Christmas, but she excitedly gave all her presents one 
sweeping glance and selected the bulky looking package she knew 
to be from Jack. "Dad! just look! Oh see! What Jack gave 



me. Isn't it wonderful! See what he says, a-er-a-hum — "Gen- 
eral Washington and Lafayette once visited some of my ances- 
tors and they are said to have used this cup. It has always been 
kept in the family as an heirloom — and shall always remain in 
the family. Your own Jack'." 

About the same time Jack hustled downstairs and eagerly 
tore the paper off the box Constance had slipped into his pocket 
the night before. On a small card was written, "Merry, merry 
Christmas, Jackie, I made it all myself — just for you!" and 
inside the package was a small burnt wood box. 

"Dear, plucky little girl. I wonder how many fingers she burnt 
— she ought not to have done it just to make this for me all her- 
self. Wait 'til I — " 

Just then the telephone rang and Jack hastily answered it. 

"Hello Jack! you dear! Honestly I can't thank you enough 
for giving me that marvelous present and you know how wild I 
am about china — But, oh, Jack! I've an awful confession to 
make — . It was all a joke truly — but I couldn't think what 
to give you — and — oh dear! I didn't make that for you my- 
self — I bought it in the new five and ten cent store!" 

Katherine Righter, 1918 

fjott) Hfyytfymic (Expression dame to Gbbot 

The Artist and the Faculty were walking hand in hand, 
They wept like anything to see the school so poorly planned. 
"If this could all be changed," they said. "It surely would be 
grand ! 

"If forty yards of crepe de chine with which they might be 

Were ordered right away, do you suppose that it would go around ? 
"Quite likely," said the Faculty. "Your judgment is most 

The crepe de chine was ordered in all colors very bright; 

The girls were soon draped up in it — they were a lovely sight! 

For some could do it beautifully, but others couldn't — quite. 

And soon it was a common thing to see their inspirations: 
Like birds and nymphs and sylphs they floated home on their 

And soon their parents wrote that they enjoyed " interpretations." 

Sally Humason, C. P. 1917, and 
Catherine McReynolds, C. P. 1918 

Ponce oe £eon anb tt?c ^ount of youtfy 

A weary band of sailors 

In a new-found land, 

On the shores of a mighty ocean, 

Lay asleep upon the sand. 

Ponce de Leon, their commander, 
Weary, looked upon his host, 
Upon the stormy water, 
And the lonely, rocky coast. 

"Alas!" he cried. "My bravest 
Are becoming old and weak, 
And the Fount of Youth no nearer 
Then when we first began to seek; 

"And my eyes have looked their last 
On their beloved Spain." 
And he fell beside his sailors 
Ne'er to see the light again! 

Catherine Mc Reynolds, C. P. 1918 


On the evening of April 23, the resident student body was 
called together in Abbot Hall for a meeting somewhat similar to 
one which took place a few months before — when Miss Bailey 
entrusted into our hands certain powers of Student Government. 
A very solemn occasion we thought it then, as each girl in her 
own heart earnestly resolved to uphold the high standards of 
Student Government, and to do her best to make the school 
even better than before; but this night marked an even greater 
episode in our school life — the presenting of the gavel to Student 
Government by Miss Bailey in behalf of the faculty. The 
gavel is a beautiful hammer or mallet, of mahogany, formed from 
a piece of the press which Mr. Draper used for so many years. 
It is a fitting token of the faculty's appreciation of our efforts, 
and of their recognition of Student Government as an estab- 
lished factor in our school life. It is the symbol of self-control — 
it marks the definite advent in Abbot Academy of Student 
Government, and will be an ever-present reminder of the sym- 
pathy and co-operation of the faculty. 

The present representative committee of Student Council 
is made up of the presidents and the vice-presidents of the senior 
class, of the Christian Association, of the Athletic Association, 
the president of Student Government, and one representative 
from each of the lower classes. 

Before our nation entered the great war, a visitor at Abbot 
might have remarked upon the knitting which the girls carried 
with them everywhere. And such a vivid dash of color as it 
made! Even in the winter months the school seemed a place 
"Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, 
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed." 
But the seeming blooms of summer were only brilliantly colored 
yarns; and now that spring has actually come, and with the 
entrance of this great nation of ours into the war, they seem to 
have utterly disappeared. In their stead, heavy gray, brown, 
and blue worsteds grow day by day into mufflers, socks, and 



sweaters for the soldiers and sailors of our country and our allies. 
The school has organized itself into units, about ten girls in a 
group, each group having its own particular aim. In this way 
the work is supervised to a certain extent, and represents the 
offering of the school to the cause of the nation. Two First Aid 
classes have also been formed, and under the direction of Miss 
Aldred the girls are learning how to make bandages and other 
necessities and how to give first aid in an emergency. Next year 
we expect to have also a course in surgical dressings. We are 
glad to be able to say that the enthusiasm over this thick, pur- 
poseful knitting is much greater than that which the light, gay 
knitting of former days inspired. 

It has been interesting to note the unusual degree of patriot- 
ism shown by Phillips at the present crisis. The military ac- 
tivities during the spring term have been quite vigorous. Officers 
for the squads have been chosen, and every afternoon has been 
devoted to systematic drilling under the superv ision of Dr. Page. 
The squads have done excellent work, thanks to previous training 
at Plattsburg by most of the officers. Twenty-four Phillips men 
made up an ambulance unit and left for France on April 28. It 
is expected that another Phillips unit will go across in July. A 
large number of the boys expect to enlist either in the army or 
in the mosquito fleet after the close of school in June. 

On April 23. in Abbot Hall, we assembled for our usual 
morning exercises. To an outsider it might have seemed like any 
other Monday morning: but to us it was different. At the close 
of the chapel service we sat armed with pencils and paper. A 
strange feeling of curiosity mingled with expectancy pervaded 
the room. We were to have an efficiency test. I glanced about 
me. My neighbor was stern and erect, waiting for the first orders 
to be given. I looked back toward the center of the room, and 
caught a glimpse of one of my younger friends frantically looking 
around her. evidently gathering up her straggling flock of inform- 
ation from the puzzled faces about her. 

At last Miss Bailey broke the tenseness of the situation by 
giving an explanation of what was expected of us. The first was 



a memory test — an explanation of Red Cross work and shopping 
directions. Suddenly the signal was given! We stopped writing, 
and hurried to our assigned places in Davis Hall. There we 
awaited our next task, which proved to be a dictation exercise; 
then there was an arithmetic test, and last but not least a test 
on our powers of observation. Again we heard the signal — it 
was over; that is, the test itself, but the reaction remained with 
us. Groups of enthusiastic girls gathered in the halls and around 
the circle. 

This efficiency test was followed a few days later by a 
general information test which, much to our consternation, 
showed us how little we knew rather than how much. But this 
exposure of our ignorance made us very eager to know what is 
going on in this busy world of ours. In the second general 
information test, which was practically a duplicate of the first, 
we proved that we were not willing to remain in a state of 

Aside from these occasional tests, Miss King is kind enough 
to post questions of current interest on the bulletin-board every 
day, with directions as to how to find the answers. So if an Abbot 
girl is not well-posted, whose fault is it? 

The last few years have been progressive ones for Spain. 
She has aroused increasing interest, and with this interest has 
come the desire of other countries to understand her, her language, 
customs and literature. 

Here at Abbot we are taking the first step in getting 
acquainted with Spain and our Latin American neighbors by 
learning the Spanish language. A Spanish class was formed in 
the beginning of the year, under Madame Romero's supervision. 
The class is small, but we hope that next year, having obtained 
a firm foothold, it will increase, if not double itself. As we are 
approaching the end of our first year's work, our progress seems 
encouraging. We have been reading a story of one of the promi- 
nent Spanish writers, Alaroon, and have read a selection from 
Cervantes' Don Quixote. Madame Romero has made Spanish 
life more vivid to us by relating her own experiences in Spain 



and Chili. The year has given us a glimpse of Spain which we 
would like others to share. 

There is a dangerous tendency in these days to do something 
because it is "the thing to do. " It is a bad habit to get into. It 
destroys all originality and individuality. 

Don't say you agree with a person on a subject because you 
think she is supposed to know about it. Look up the subject for 
yourself, and don't agree with someone else's opinion until 
you're absolutely convinced that hers is the right one. Don't 
laugh at a joke that you know you wouldn't like to tell yourself, 
simply because everyone else in the room laughs. Don't dili- 
gently pursue the work of a certain writer whom you don't really 
like, because "everyone is reading him this winter". 

A certain small boy once remarked to some friends of his 

mother, "Oh, haven't you heard those new records of Mr. ? 

They're fine — but they sound horrid." There's the whole 
trouble. Haven't you ever found yourself declaring a thing 
"fine" when in your secret heart it "sounded horrid!"? 

Whether it be the choice of a book or a play or a college or 
a profession, do a thing because you want to do it, not because 
it happens for the moment to be "the thing to do". 

Above all things let us not be sentimental. Let us guard 
against those desires — to cherish foolish tokens of nothing, to 
eat our hearts away over an affection for a certain classmate, to 
talk flowingly about pretty little subjects and to weep over tales 
of silly pathos. Love is not blind. No truthful emotion is blind. 
Sentimentalism is worse than blind ; it dulls and cheapens every 
thing it comes in contact with. Everything in the vicinity of the 
sentimentalist becomes distorted by the inability of that person 
to feel deeply and sympathetically and, last but not least, to act 

One of the most outstanding evils of the twentieth century- 
is the hurry habit. Everybody has it in a greater or less degree. 
Babies are pushed into it by their doting parents, who are 
anxiously intent on having them keep a little ahead of all of their 



friends' babies, in physical, intellectual and gooing ability. 
Old men are swept along by it, willy-nilly, like dry leaves on a 
turbulent stream. 

It is very logical to find a motor-age saying, "Out of my 
way! I'm in a hurry." Not that it has any good reason for its 
mad flight, but it has gone speed-crazy. The good old "Haste 
makes waste" is proving true every day, but we are all in too 
much of a hurry to notice it. 

Do we take time to study the harmony of one symphony 
or the color in one painting? No; just as the wonder of it begins 
to impress us, we must look wildly at our watches and con- 
centrate upon catching a train. For if you don't hurry when 
you take the train, you'll have to when you leave it. It is 
inescapable. We seem to be always hurrying so that we may not 
need to hurry, but we are pursuing ourselves around a very small 

Friends of Miss Merrill will be glad to know that the con- 
tributions for the memorial gateway have been generous, and 
that, although more money is needed, plans for the construction 
of the gate are being considered by the trustees and it is hoped 
that work on it may begin before long. 

School 3ournal 



20 Lecture by Miss Miriam Cheney: Posture. 

20 First Tea dance in Phillips Grill. 

21 Chapel. Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick: The Religion of our Fathers. 

23 English V. Prize Plays. Davis Hall. 
"Cupid's Columns", Bernice Boutwell. 
"His Uncle's Ward", Lucy Atwood. 

27 Miss Skilton of Lowell tells us of the Life of the Working Girl. 
27 Tea dance at Phillips Grill. 

29 Chapel. Miss Ethel DeLong: The Pine Mountain School. 

1-3 Examinations. 

3 Luncheon of Abbot Club and Alumnae Association at Hotel Vendome, 

4 Chapel. Miss Mary Wiggin: The Consumers' League. 
5-9 Senior Trip to Intervale with Miss Bailey. 

6 Party to Barnstormers in Town Hall. 

6 Miss Kelsey's fudge party in the recreation room. 

10 Recital by music pupils in Davis Hall. 
Reception of Student government. 

11 Seniors hear Captain Ian Hay Beith at Free Church. 
Chapel. Mr. Bigelow: Abraham Lincoln. 

12 Chapel. Captain Ian Hay Beith: Experiences in the Trenches. 

13 Senior-Middle Plays. Davis Hall. 
"Miss Civilization" 

"The Maker of Dreams" 

14 Bradford Tea to Abbot Seniors. 

17 Fire in Draper Hall. 

Second Abbot Academy Recital in Davis Hall. Mrs. Grace Bonner 
Williams, Soprano. 

18 Chapel. Miss Bailey: Conduct. 
21 Phillips Promenade 

24 Chapel. Rev. William E. Lombard: Religion. 

27 Miss Nichols and quartette in Davis Hall. 

28 Party to hear Mme. Bernhardt. 


3 Senior Promenade. Davis Hall. 

4 Chapel. Miss Mabel Hayward: The Development of the Spanish 

7 Senior-Middle Sleighride. 



8 Mr. Radford Abbot tells of his experiences as an ambulance driver 
near Verdun. 

10 Exhibition of Rhythmic Expression by Miss Morris, assisted by Miss 

11 Chapel. Mrs. Helen Weil. Reading: Joseph the Dreamer. 
15 Violin Recital. Davis Hall. Miss Nichols. 

17 Party to French Play. Miss Sherman. 

18 Chapel. Mr. Stackpole: Contemplation. 

22 Lecture. Baroness Huard: "My Home on the Field of Honor". 

24 Ethel Leginska. Piano. 

Pi Eta Show in Town Hall. 

25 Chapel. Miss Bailey: Preparedness. 
28 Minstrel Show. Glee Club. 

30 Spring Vacation. 


14 Hall Exercises. Mrs. Stannard: Housewifery. 

15 Easter Service in Davis Hall. Miss Bailey. 
Organ Recital. 

18 "Isaiah." Peabody Players. 

19 Bird Lecture. Mr. Oldys. 

21 Hall Exercises. Miss Agnes Donham: Care of the Home. 

22 Free Church. Cantata by Choral Society. 

23 Presentation of gavel to Student Body by Faculty. 

24 Play by Barnstormers in Town Hall. 

28 Hall Exercises. Miss Mabel Hill : Home and Community. 

29 Chapel. Mr. Wilson: Life of Christ. 


1 May Breakfast in Town Hall. 

Senior Play. Davis Hall. "The Ladies' Battle." 

5 Hall Exercises. Mrs. Richard Cabot: Care of Children. 

6 Trip to hear Galli Curci with Miss Bancroft. 

Chapel. Miss Bailey: Reading: Sermon by Dr. Fosdick. "The 
Second Mile." 

8 French play by French Department. Davis Hall. "Triomphe de 

9 Geological trip to Nahant with Miss Elliott. 

13 Chapel. Rev. Mr. Park: The Judgment of our Fellow Men. 

14 Song recital by pupils of Miss Bennett, assisted by Piano pupils, 
Glee Club, and Abbot String Quartet. 

15 Senior-Middle Banquet. 
15-17 Spring Field Day Events. 

19 Opening of exhibition of Contemporary Boston Artists in the John- 
Esther Gallery. 

19 Dr. Raymond Calkins: The Things that Cannot be Shaken. 




The Commencement Exercises will be held from June 10 to June 12. 

The baccalaureate sermon will be preached by William Pierson Merrill 
D. D. of Brick Church, New York City, and the commencement address will 
be given by Professor George Herbert Palmer, L.L.D. 

The Draper readers are — 

Louise Jackson Bacon of Newton 

Helen Frances Cutting of Brooklyn, New York 

Mildred Harriet Frost of Lawrence 

Marion Russell McPherson of Waban 

Sarah Katharine Tougas of Dorchester 

Virginia Vincent of Boonton, New Jersey 

Margaret Elizabeth Van Voorhis of Zanesville, Ohio 

Marion Crosby Willson of Lowell 


Lucy Rogers Atwood 
Elizabeth Harlow Bacon 
Miriam Manning Bacon 
Harriet Hilton Balfe 
Dorothy Louise Baxter 
Bernice Patterson Boutwell 
Mary Church 
Esther Kinney Davis 
Marguerite Dunaway 
Doris Elizabeth Emery 
Frances Kent Gere 
Mildred Ada Gilmore 
Gertrude Goss 
Esther Wanzer Hungerford 
Ruth Jackson 
Alice Taylor Littlefield 
Cornelia Chapell Newcomb 
Cornelia Bancroft Sargent 
Dorothy Coffin Small 
Hilda Belle Temple 
Mary Elizabeth Wuichet 
Mary Catharine Yeakle 

Bangor, Maine 
Albany, New York 

Newburgh, New York 
Mansfield, Ohio 

Bridgeport, Connecticut 
Virginia, Illinois 
Newport, Vermont 
Syracuse, New York 
Wellesley Hills 

New Milford, Connecticut 



New London, Connecticut 




Dayton, Ohio 

Norristown, Pennsylvania 


Carita Bigelow 
Janet Wilson Davis 
Elizabeth Waterman Graves 
Sarah Waters Humason 
Edith Agnes Marsden 
Harriet Josephine Murdock 
Dorothy Newton 
Rachel Langevin Olmstead 
Marjorie Blackstone Smithwick 
Antoinette Creighton Stone 


Altoona, Pennsylvania 
New London, Connecticut 
New Britain, Connecticut 

Meriden, Connecticut 


West Brookfield 


Ilion, New York 




One morning during the winter term Miss Ethel DeLong spoke in Chapel 
about the Pine Mountain School, a sort of daughter-school to the Hindman. 
Her work among the simple, uneducated mountain folk has been very energetic 
and fruitful. Her stories of the people were extremely interesting; some were 
pathetic, others amusing. Nearly all of them told of the people's longing for 
better lives and more advantages for their children. Miss DeLong sang 
several of the mountain ballads, while she played her own accompaniment 
on a one-stringed instrument. The songs were charming, and altogether the 
talk was very entertaining, besides fulfilling its motive to tell the girls about 
the school and to inspire each one with a desire to help those struggling people 
of the hills who have so many possibilities with so many hardships. 

We were certainly fortunate here at Abbot to have the chance to hear 
Captain Ian Hay Beith, even though for only a short time. 

The seniors had the double good fortune to hear him twice — once in 
Monday morning chapel and once on Sunday afternoon, when he spoke at the 
Free Church to an audience composed mostly of Scotchmen. 

The address at the Free Church was particularly impressive, as Captain 
Beith was talking to his own countrymen, who were extremely enthusiastic 
and responsive. He told, first, something about life in the trenches, a mixture 
of humorous anecdotes and thrilling incidents which held his audience spell- 
bound. He also spoke of England's awakening and the wonderful change which 
has been wrought in her unity of purpose and efficiency of action. He finished 
by a short discussion of affairs as they stand at present, and declared that 
England would consider no peace until her purpose was accomplished. 

His talk in chapel consisted mostly of stories of trench life — short, vivid 
pictures, full of interest and humour. 

Captain Beith's winning personality adds greatly to what he has to say. 
He has great simplicity of manner, a clear, well-modulated speaking voice and 
a dry, witty humour which sends his audience into gales of laughter, but never 
brings a smile to his own face. He also has the gift, although speaking quietly 
and easily, of making his listeners thrill. 

Mr. Radford Abbot of Andover returned in February from France where 
he had served for six months in the ambulance corps. Mr. Abbot lectured on 
his experiences in this work at the Phillips Club. Later he repeated his lecture 
in Davis Hall. He told us some very thrilling tales of his work over there; of 
his adventures while he drove an ambulance out behind the trenches at night 
taking in the wounded men. He made us realize just how important such a 
work is in the present great war. 

On Sunday evening, March 11, a very interesting reading was given 
by Mrs. Helen Weil of Cambridge. Mrs. Weil read a play entitled "Joseph 
the Dreamer," being the dramatization of the Bible story of Joseph. 

The play was intensely dramatic and effective. It gives the story of 
Joseph through the scenes of young manhood, shows his selling into slavery, 
his later work in Egypt when he has become great, and ends with the dramatic 
and touching meeting of Joseph and his aged father and the reconciliation 
between Joseph and his brothers. 

Mrs. Weil's skilful reading greatly heightened the interest and dramatic 
effect of the play. 



"Joseph the Dreamer" was written by Mrs. Percy Dearman of England, 
who died in Serbia during the typhus epidemic in 1915. 

On the afternoon of March 22, we had the good fortune to listen to a 
most inspiring talk by Baroness Huard. By telling the story of her experiences 
just outside of Paris at the outbreak of the war she is raising money in this 
country. With this money Baroness Huard is running a hospital in Paris 
which accommodates one hundred patients. 

In her simple, direct way she told us first of the mobilization and then of 
the awful war with its suffering and untold horrors. It was her own personal 
experiences that she told us — the surprise of her household at the Chateau 
de Villiers when war was declared and the sudden departure of men, horses and 
motors. The throngs of Belgian refugees, aged and young, plodding past 
her home away from the enemy on towards they knew not where, was he art- 

Finally she was forced to leave the chateau on account of the approach of 
the Germans, and made her way southward with four members of her house- 
hold, two small boys, a sick girl and a nurse. After numberless hair-breadth 
escapes, she reached Melun. It was here for three weeks that she (being able 
to speak French) acted as interpreter for the English army, and later she 
returned in the rear of that victorious company of men to her devastated 
"Home on the Field of Honor." 

The depression of it all is buoyed up by her wonderful sense of humor. It 
is no time to be depressed, but rather a time to rise up and give a helping hand 
to those about us. As she finished her talk, we knew that we had in our midst 
a real heroine — a heroine who needs our help to carry out her wonderful work. 
And we knew that we too have a role to play in this great war drama. 

During the spring term a series of lectures was given on four Saturday 
afternoons by representatives from the Garland School of Homemaking. 

Mrs. Stannard was our first speaker. Her lecture on home management 
was very interesting and instructive. She pointed out the relative importance 
of the food, clothing and shelter problems, and told us how to derive the most 
satisfaction from the right use of a yearly income. 

The second talk, on "Efficiency in the Home", was by Miss Agnes Don- 
ham. We were made to realize that our own rooms were real houses on a small 
scale and that by following a regular routine of work we should save ourselves 
needless energy, besides creating a more pleasant atmosphere from the satis- 
fying feeling of well-done duties. 

Miss Mabel Hill was our third speaker. Her subject was "The Relation 
of the Home to Society." Miss Hill gave us an interesting idea of ways to 
help those who are unfortunate enough to have to work under poor labor 
conditions. After her talk we could not help realizing the duties of a good 
housekeeper to society. 

Mrs. Cabot, wife of Dr. Richard Cabot, was our fourth speaker. Mr?. 
Cabot spoke on "The Care of the Child", dealing with the psychological side 
of the subject. It seemed that Mrs. Cabot had a perfect understanding of 
child nature, from her real and amusing stories of children and from her feeling 
for children in general. Her lecture was very interesting. 

On Thursday afternoon, April 19, Mr. Henry Oldys lectured in Abbot 
Hall on birds. Mr. Oldys has devoted twenty-five years of his life to the study 



of birds, their habits and their songs. He brought to us the true spirit of spring 
through his very entertaining tales of birds and bird-lovers he has known. 
Through his clever mimicry of bird notes we could almost imagine ourselves 
out in the woods, spying on birds in their most secret haunts. Mr. Oldys 
taught us a great deal from his own profound knowledge and love of bird-lore, 
and made us all realize how near the bird relationship is to us, and how we can 
cultivate their friendship to the best advantage. 


A song recital was given in Davis Hall Saturday afternoon, February 17, 
by Mrs. Grace Bonner Williams, and was attended by a large and enthusiastic 
audience. The first half of the program consisted of German Lieder, which were 
sung most sympathetically and skilfully. Schubert's "Haiden Roslein" was 
especially interesting. The French and English songs which followed were, 
however, the most popular. "L'oiseau Bleu" and "Chere Nuit" were beau- 
tiful, and in these Mrs. Williams seemed to reach the climax of her skill. Han- 
del's "Come, Beloved" was charming, as were the other English songs. Mrs. 
Williams's technique is good and she sang with great ease and grace. Miss 
Wilhelmina Kernston proved to be a very competent accompanist, and the 
afternoon was a great success. 

Miss Nichols gave us a great treat the afternoon of February 27, in 
bringing to Abbot the String Quartet she has formed and instructed. The 
young ladies played beautifully together and each one gave a charming solo. It 
was especially interesting, because we knew that Miss Nichols was training 
four Abbot girls also in a String Quartet, and after we had seen what remarkable 
results she had accomplished with her Boston Quartet, our hopes grew high 
for the Abbot Quartet. Two of the players were Miss Blaikie who gives lessons 
in the 'cello at school, and Miss Gates, assistant violin teacher. 

Miss Marie Nichols gave her annual violin recital for Abbot in Davis 
Hall, the evening of March 15, and it was one of the most delightful and satis- 
factory recitals we have heard. Her first number was Tartini's famous Sonata 
and was more than enough to make the audience aware of her splendid tech- 
nique and interpretation. Gossec's Gavotte was full of life and vigor, and 
Beethoven's Rondino was beautifully played. The pieces were all so lovely, it 
is hard to determine which was liked the best. Polonaise in A from Wein- 
iawski was charming, and the Gypsy Dance of Natchez, with which her pro- 
gram ended, was brilliantly and wonderfully played. We certainly are for- 
tunate in having Miss Nichols for a violin teacher, and in having the opportun- 
ity of hearing her play. Miss Isabelle Moore proved to be a skilful accompanist 
at the piano. 

Saturday afternoon, March 24, a piano recital by Miss Ethel Leginska was 
given in Davis Hall. This event had been looked forward to with great eager- 
ness by all who had heard Miss Leginska before and knew how truly great she 
is, and by those who had heard such glowing reports of her. Realization more 
than justified anticipation in this case. Miss Leginska has grown tremendously 
in her executantship and instrumental knowledge of the piano. She played 
with a brilliancy of touch and a depth of feeling which enthralled the audience. 
The initial number on her program was a Gavotte by Rameau which made an 
excellent concert piece. Her touch while playing Chopin's famous ballads and 



nocturnes was that of a genius. The powerful Keltic Sonata of MacDowell's 
was vividly interpreted, and Liszt's Rhapsodie VIII was very sympathetically 
played. She encored with Variations of the Blue Danube Waltz by Strauss, 
and this was one of the most exquisite things she played. She had played the 
same piece last year for us and we were very fortunate in hearing it again. No 
one who has ever heard Ethel Leginska play will ever forget either her per- 
formance or her charming personality. 

We were given quite a surprise the evening of March 28 when we assembled 
in Davis Hall, expecting to hear the Glee Club sing songs. What greeted us 
was more than the Glee Club — in appearance anyway — it was a Minstrel 
Show. Black, black darkies in snow-white linen held our fascinated attention 
for about an hour while they sang their plaintive, haunting melodies. It was 
one of the happiest entertainments of the year, and as we knew the darkies of 
this Minstrel Show, it made it all the more fun. 

Monday afternoon, May 14, was a very pleasant one, for a song recital by 
Miss Bennett's pupils was given then, assisted by the Glee Club, by Professor 
Ashton's piano pupils, and by the Abbot String Quartet. The Glee Club 
sang delightfully, as usual; and the girls who sang individually, and those who 
played the piano, won enthusiastic applause from the audience. The Abbot 
String Quartet composed of Miss Tougas, Miss Goss, Miss Solle, and Miss 
Miller caused as much excitement as the Quartet Miss Nichols brought from 
Boston in February. Certainly the Abbot Quartet played very well and cred- 
itably, and the whole recital was a success. 


On January 23, the English V Prize Plays were given in Davis Hall for a 
most enthusiastic audience. The young playwrights selected their own casts 
and the coaching was done mostly by them with the help of Miss Howey. 
"Cupid's Columns" by Bernice Boutwell was presented first, and the little 
farce met with shouts of approving laughter from the audience. Then "Her 
Uncle's Ward," the play written by Lucy Atwood, was given, and the audience 
breathlessly followed the pursuit of the run-away heroine to the happy ending. 
It was lots of fun for the girls, and the excellent productions of the two budding 
geniuses made the evening a fine success. 

On the evening of February 13, the highly anticipated Senior Middle 
plays were given in Davis Hall. "Maker of Dreams," a one-act play by Oli- 
phant Downs, was certainly one of the most exquisite little plays ever given at 
Abbot. Virginia Vincent made a dainty little Pierette and we were all glad that 
Pierrot finally stopped his clever dancing long enough to discover in her the 
ideal of his dreams. Marion Willson as the Manufacturer played her role with 
all the dignity that the situation demanded, and the applause which filled the 
hall at the close of the play was loud and prolonged. 

"Miss Civilization," a play by Richard Harding Davis, was then pre- 
sented, and perhaps was the more popular of the two plays. Martha Grace 
Miller made a charming Miss Civilization and won the admiration of all by 
her clever acting. Louise Bacon, as the leader of the burglars, was splendid in 
the terse, sharp character she adopted, and Natalie Weed and Margaret 
Mitchell kept the audience laughing at their antics. Of course the play couldn't 



have ended properly without the aid of Ruth Eaton as Captain Lucas, chief of 
police, his assistant, and the wrecking crew. 

The evening was extremely successful and Miss Potter should be con- 
gratulated on her excellent directing. 

The cast : — 

"Maker of Dreams 1 1 

MANUFACTURER Marion Willson 

PIERRETTE Virginia Vincent 

PIERROT Katherine Pinckney 

"Miss Civilization" 

Martha Grace Miller 
Louise Bacon 
Natalie Weed 
Margaret Mitchell 
Ruth Eaton 
Catherine McReynolds 

1'Velma Row ell 
Mary Kunkel 
Irene Atwood 


PROPERTY MANAGER Eloise Van Arsdale 

We were very fortunate in having with us Wednesday evening, March 28, 
the Peabody House players of Boston, who presented the stirring drama of 
Isaiah. The characters were wonderfully taken, and the play gave us a realiza- 
tion of Biblical history and a visualization of the Old Testament's war-time 
prophet that we might never have received in any other way. It seemed we 
were in the far East — the garments, the colors, the sounds were so vividly 
Oriental, and Syrian. The music and dancing were lovely and made a lasting 
impression upon us with their weird themes. Everything about the presenta- 
tion of this drama was so human and impressive, so dramatic and vividly 
colored, that it will long remain in the memories of those who had the oppor- 
tunity of witnessing it. 

Tuesday evening, May 1, in Davis Hall, the Senior Class play, "The 
Ladies' Battle," was presented. It was hard to realize we were living in the 
Twentieth Century, for the play carried us back nearly a hundred years to the 
period of the Restoration in France, and the scenery cleverly and beautifully 
depicted the summer salon of the Chateau d'Autreval. The characters were 
wonderfully individualized and interpreted. Ruth Jackson made a stunning 
Countess, a lady of keen wit and great beauty. Cornelia Sargent was a perfect 
young Leonie, a girl with only her youthfulness to defeat the cleverness of her 
aunt. The part of Henri, the gallant young man over whom the ladies fought, 
was exceedingly well given by Carita Bigelow. Esther Davis played the role 
of the villain with ease and skill. We were sorry that Mary Church was 
unable to take part in the play, as intended originally; but Norma Tibbet, a 
former pupil of Miss Potter's, played the role of the love-lorn Gustave with 
delightful awkwardness. The martial touch given by the Dragoons made the 
play all the more picturesque. Altogether the play was a great success and 
will be long remembered by those who saw it. Miss Potter should be con- 
gratulated for her excellent coaching of the cast; and great appreciation is 


CAPTAIN LUCAS. Chief of Police 




due Frau Cramer of the German, and Miss Pooke of the Art departments for 
the help they gave in painting the scenery. Elizabeth Bacon was the prompter, 
and Esther Hungerford, stage manager. 

The cast of characters: 




DRAGOONS Catharine Yeakle, Marjorie Smithwick 


SERVANT Harriet Balfe 

The French play "Le Triomphe de Flore," given on May 8, was a dainty 
little piece of acting and stage-setting which the whole school greatly enjoyed. 

The scene was a garden, and a great deal of credit is due to the stage man- 
agers who transformed the stage of Davis Hall into a bower of loveliness. 

The flowers, (and every sort of flower that grows was represented ) endeavor 
to awaken Flore, their queen, who lies sleeping in their midst. She is lazy and 
refuses to rise, whereupon the flowers cry "A bas, la reine, Flore," and leave 
her. Repenting, she begs forgiveness and the flowers return, again crowning 
her their queen. 

The four soldiers of the queen who were guarding the flowers called 
forth such volumes of applause that they were compelled to repeat their song 
and march three times. 

The whole play was so pretty and well done, that the audience refused to 
be satisfied until the entire last act was repeated. 

The part of Flore was taken by Ruth Farrington, and that of the Breeze, 
who awakens in Flore a sense of her duties, by Marjorie Smithwick. 

Hfyytfymic (Expression 

A course in rhythmic expression has been introduced this year. This 
course is under the direction of Miss Louise Revere Morris, a pupil of Mrs. 
Florence Fleming Noyes's School of Rhythmic Expression in New York. 

As an introduction to our work in this art Miss Morris, assisted by Miss 
Killinger, gave an exhibition in Davis Hall on March 10. Miss Morris also 
told us about the origin and aim of the dancing. They showed us what natural 
possibilities we all have stored up, under cover of the conventionalities of 
the ages. Everyone is naturally graceful, but in our twentieth-century rush 
for materialism we fail to realize this. Success lies in the abandonment of 
self and the cultivation of sympathetic imagination. The program included 
"The Water Lily," "Cupid," and "The Dance of Apollo," which were very 
beautifully and gracefully interpreted. 

In our rhythmic expression classes under Miss Morris, assisted by Miss 
Sprague, we are working up a pageant which promises to be a very beautiful 
affair. The following is a synopsis of the pageant: 


The promise of spring is in the air. Pan awakes and pipes his merry 
notes, heralding the season's dawn. The Frogs from their marshy pools 
respond, and anon the Birds return. Again Pan pipes, and in response the 



first sweet Flowers of Spring appear. Then like mad Bacchantes come the 
boisterous Summer Flowers, laughing to scorn their tender sisters, until the 
latter fade away. Presently, however, they too are driven from the scene 
by the stately Autumn Troop, which holds the season's sceptre. But only for 
a time, for soon across the fields the Chill Winds swoop down, forerunners of 
winter gales, and then the fields are bare save for the Whirling Leaves. Winter 
fast descends. Pan struggles against the storm but, unable to stay the fierce 
onslaught, seeks shelter beneath the leaves. The Snowy Gales sweep on, 
but their triumph too is but for a day, for from out the midst of snows and 
protecting leaves Pan softly rises and once more lifts his pipes. 

^onor Holl 


Katherine Ch'en, Tsing Lien Li, Martha Grace Miller — 91 
Elizabeth Bacon, Julia Abbe, Helen Walker — 89 
Mary Wuichet, Avalita Howe — 88 

Third Quarter 

Katherine Ch'eri, Tsing Lien Li — 92 
Julia Abbe, Mary Shipman — 91 

Antoinette Stone, Martha Grace Miller, Avalita Howe — 90 
Elizabeth Bacon, Irene Atwood, Margaret Van Voorhis, Emily Thomp- 
son, Helen Walker, Elizabeth Sjostrom — 88 

School (gifts 

During the school-year 1915-1916, the Sunday contributions and the 
money given by the school for war relief and other charities amounted to 
$964. About the same amount has been given this year, some of the special 
contributions being for Baroness Huard, the Armenian Relief Fund and the 
Joffre Fund for French Orphans. The girls also bought the yarn for the Red 
Cross knitting. 

^tdb £>ay 

Field Day this year was quite an exciting and prolonged affair, beginning 
Tuesday afternoon at 3.30, and ending Thursday afternoon at 4.30. 

The contest was odd against even; that is, the classes of '17 and '19, 
against those of '18 and '20. 

The track events were on Tuesday, May 15. After a close struggle, the 
score came out a tie. Wednesday morning at 9.30 came the archery tourna- 
ment. This sport was only introduced to school this year, and therefore was 
especially interesting to the spectators. Each competitor shot eight rounds 
of six arrows each. The winner was awarded a cup and the three who came 
out ahead, a little green pin, the special award of merit to an expert archer. 
A great deal of thanks is due to Mr. Bryant, to whose untiring efforts in coach- 
ing the progress of the sport has been due. 

At 1.30 in the afternoon came the riding exhibition. It consisted of 
three divisions — a serpentine race, a ball race and riding for form. As 



soon as the riding was over came the hockey game and that finished the events 
of that day. The baseball game was on Thursday afternoon. 

Although the odd teams carried off nearly all the honors, it was no easy 
victory, for the even teams fought hard and well. 

Friday morning in chapel the cup was presented to the president of the 
senior class and the members of the different teams received their numerals. 

The results of Field Day in detail are as follows: — 

High jump 
Baseball throw 
Basketball throw 
Standing broad jump 
Running broad jump 

E. Davis 
C. Fleming 
R. Hathaway 

D. Fairfield 
S. Humason 
M. Bushnell 

F. Gere 

M. McPherson 

G. Prescott 
Team of '18-'20 



Height or distance 
3 ft. 11 in. 
161ft. 7 in. 
61 ft. 10 in. 
6 ft. 103^ in. 
lift. 4^in. 


Ball race 

E. Thompson 
I. Solle 
I. Solle 


Odd team 4 

Even team 3 


Odd team 29 

Even team 6 


Odd teams 36^ 
Even teams 2 


Miss Howey: "Katherine, where is Assyria?" 
K. Coe: "Way over to the right." 

It is always well to keep the map in mind, Kitty; but remember that 
north, south, east and west are the points of the compass. 



Miss Carson (in gym): "What did I say, Mary?" 
M. Davis: "I didn't hear." 

Miss Carson: "There you have the whole trouble in a nutshell." 
We wonder if there wasn't a little keen sarcasm behind that remark. 

We wish to make the announcement that Janet Davis has been appointed 
president of the Consumers' League. 

Anyone who has ever sat at Jane's table will not have to question why. 

H. Vedder (at table): "It seems to me Janet's expression has changed a 
lot this year." 

D. Emery: "Yes, it's Blossomed out." 

Notice on Bulletin Board 
"Glee Club in Music Room at 1 o'clock sharp." 

Judging from the sounds that came from the Music Room at 1 o'clock, 
we supposed that the orders had been changed to flat. 

The information test produced some information for the faculty as well 
as for us. Three of the most important things that they learned were as follows: 
"An airship is run by gas — an aeroplane by gasoline." 
"La Follette is a German spy." 

"The Chancellor of the German Empire is Schleswig-Holstein." 

We seem to be developing some weather prophets here at Abbot. At 
least, a notice appeared one May day on the bulletin board, to the effect that 
there would be snow at 3.30, followed in an hour by chill winds. 

3tems of (general interest 

Miss Kelsey and Miss Mason are to spend the summer at a cottage at 
Falmouth Foreside in Maine, not far from Miss Sarah Merrill and her father. 

Early this spring, Rev. Charles H. Oliphant resigned from the pastorate 
of the First Congregational Church in Methuen. 

Miss Marion L. Pooke won the Hudson prize for the best painting by a 
woman in the winter exhibition of the Connecticut Academy of Fine Arts. 

An exhibition of contemporary Boston painters was held in the John- 
Esther Gallery, beginning May 19 and extending through Commencement. 
The characteristic examples sent by each exhibitor made the show one of 
keen interest. Among the painters exhibiting were: Frank W. Benson, Joseph 
DeCamp, Marie Danforth Page, Charles H. Woodbury, Gertrude Fiske, 
Rosamond L. Smith, Louis Kronberg, Philip L. Hale, Arthur Spear, Beatrice 
Whitney Van Ness, Frederic Bosley and Leslie Thompson. There were three 
paintings by Marion L. Pooke. 

Mr. H. Winthrop Peirce gave the school some very interesting fashion- 
plates of the seventies and eighties. A check for $15 came from the Boston 
Abbot Club. 

Miss Melita Knowles has been teaching this winter at the Brearley School 
in New York City. 

Miss Angelica Patterson, teacher of art at Abbot Academy 1892-1905, 
exhibited at the Copley Gallery in January a series of allegorical watercolor 



paintings expressing the "Vorticist" theory of the coil as symbolizing the 
"life force". The coil takes all sorts of forms based on the principle of the 
vortex, such as the whirlpool, the cyclone and the waterspout, which are used 
in varied and ingenious patterns. The arrangements of color are said to be 
very effective. Besides these designs, there was a group of portraits on view. 
Appreciations of Miss Patterson's work have been written by Miss Agnes 
Repplier and Abbott Thayer. 

Rev. William F. Slocum, D.D., husband of Margaret Montgomery 
(teacher at Abbot Academy 1875-76) has resigned as president of Colorado 

Mrs. Lucretia Kendall Clark writes: — "As the one-time German teacher 
at Abbot it is natural that I should find myself at work for the (innocent) 
Germans in London. We have expended over £30,000 and still the needs are 
there. Thousands of Germans are interned in England (Scotland and Ireland) 
and something may be done for them. From first to the present, we have had 
about 5000 cases on our books, quite apart from men interned. A case may 
mean a family with numerous children. I am thankful that a small share of 
this work has fallen to my lot and I would like to tell Miss McKeen and Miss 
Phebe about it all." 

Charlotte Root Patton's address is changed to 696 Drexel Avenue, Detroit . 

The Courant Board owes a vote of thanks to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin 
and Company for the pleasure they have had in reading Mr. Ian Hay's book, 

It is a charming story, full of the dry and witty humour, together with 
the bits of sound philosophy which mark all this author's work. 

"Pip," the hero, is an extremely interesting youth. The story takes him 
from early boyhood to young manhood. The description of his childhood 
is particularly charming. The love story is simple, but of a character to hold 
the reader's interest throughout. It is such a book that, once taken up, it is 
hard to put down again until the story is finished. 

alumnae motes 

There was a good gathering at the mid-winter lunch of the Alumnae 
Association and the Boston Abbot Club at the Vendome on February 3. Miss 
Twichel!, who presided, told of the old days at the school and Miss Bailey 
spoke of the present-day life. Mrs. Patton read some very interesting letters 
from seven "girls" who are doing war-relief work in Europe, and Mrs. Parker 
and Eugenia Parker gave tributes to the great work of Mrs. Draper for Abbot 
Academy. Miss Bailey was the guest of the New York Abbot Club at its 
spring meeting. 

1841. The earliest class with living representatives is now, so far as is 
known, the class of 1841, which has two members, Mrs. Luthera Sheldon 
Wightman and Mrs. Hannah Phelps Gutterson. Mrs. Wightman lives in 
Lowell with her daughter. She was born in 1823. Mrs. Gutterson lives in 
Andover with her son, Myron Edwards, whose wife is Annie Elizabeth Tyler 
of the class of 1882. Mrs. Gutterson was born in 1825. Both ladies are remark- 
able in many ways, for their years. All alumnae will be glad to send them 

1847. A letter from Mrs. Lydia Tapley Reed of Brookline has been 
received which shows a beautiful spirit and proves her a woman who looks 
forward rather than sadly back. She says: "Last summer an automobile 
ride gave me an opportunity to see the Academy with all its new accessories 
and it was a happy experience, for in spite of the newness there were familiar 
details left, and it had a homelike look that was very satisfying." Other 
pleasant responses to the announcements of the seventieth anniversary of the 
class come from Mrs. Emily Gray Freeman and Mrs. Sarah Kaulback Dowse 
of Maiden and Mrs. Lucy Wilkins Pratt of Jefferson. 

1854. Mrs. Marcella Brown Kelly of Auburndale has recently had a 
severe fall, breaking several ribs. Although eighty-seven years old, she has 
been quite active, keeping house for her son. Three years ago she visited the 
Academy at Commencement, and her enjoyment of everything was very 
pleasant to see and to remember. 

fl862. The reunion circular announcing the fifty-fifth anniversary of the 
class reached the home of one of its members a few days after her death. 
Her daughter writes: "My dear mother, Catherine Mills Forsyth, has just 
gone to join the reunion of alumnae — many of them her warm friends — 
who have already crossed the river. She always spoke most affectionately of 
Abbot Academy and among the stories that she told me as a child, many of 
the most delightful ones were of the happy years which she spent there." 

fl868. Mrs. Henrietta Learoyd Sperry's daughter Pauline, who is assist- 
ant professor of mathematics at Smith College, will give courses in the summer 
session of the graduate school of the University of California. 

1870. Two members of the class have met with sad bereavement in the 
death of Mr. Chester M. Dawes, brother of Anna L. Dawes and husband 
of Ada Laflin, a successful lawyer and a member of the Chicago Board of 



fl882. The class had a very successful reunion last year on the occasion 
of the graduation of Dorothy Pillsbury, daughter of Annie Watts Pillsbury, 
a member of the class. On this account they do not expect to gather in any 
numbers for the thirty-fifth anniversary in June. 

fl887. Jeannie Jillson was among the missionaries who arrived in May 
in Switzerland from Turkey. 

|1889. Kathleen Jones delivered an address before the National Con- 
ference of Charities and Corrections at Indianapolis on the subject of "The 
Importance of Organized Libraries in Institutions." This address, a copy 
of which she has sent to Abbot Academy, together with various articles 
written for library magazines, shows how thoroughly interested she is in the 
matter and how much a trained library worker like herself can do to increase 
the happiness of invalids in institutions by furnishing them with the right kind 
of books. 

f 1893. Anna Nettleton's address is changed in New Haven to 98 East 
Rock Road. 

1 1895. Helen Jackson has been spending the year with Florence (Merrill) 
Featherston (1894) in her pleasant home on a ranch in Lompoc, Cal. Florence 
has now three interesting children. 

fl900. Mr. Arthur Spear, husband of Grace Chapman, has a very inter- 
esting picture at the exhibition in the John-Esther Gallery. 

1902. Ruth Danenhower (Mrs. Frederick Wilson) is now living at Law- 
rence Park West, Bronxville, N. Y. 

|1906. Vennette Herron, who since her graduation has written a number 
of short stories and one novel, The Torch, has recently published a collection 
of poems called Perfume and Poison. She has lived during the last six years 
in Panama and South America, and these poems are wholly "tropical in point 
of view". 

fl907. Margaret Payne has been working for several years in the Light- 
house settlement in Philadelphia. She has a class of factory women in needle- 
work and travel talks. 

fl907. Gertrude Lefevre is teaching kindergarten in Leroy, New York. 

tl908. It was pleasant to have Louise Sweeney with us again this spring, 
when she helped for a week or two in the French department. 

1909. Nora Sweeney is teaching gymnastics at Miss Cramp's and Miss 
Edgar's School in Montreal. 

1910. Dora Heys has recently visited Marion Bemis Schlesinger in her 
new home, 67 Sumner Avenue, Springfield. Dora's address is now 45 Nahant 
Street, Lynn. 

fl911. Dorothy Bigelow and Esther Kilton were together this winter on 
a trip to California, coming home by way of Florida. They saw a number of 
Abbot girls, among them Louise Coe in Nebraska, Elsie Whipple in California, 
and Margaret Wilkins in Texas. 



fl913. Marion Gould's marriage to Mr. Charles H. Smith was earlier 
than was planned, because of Mr. Smith's call to Plattsburg. 

|1913. Marion Martin is doing volunteer social service work in connection 
with the children's clinic and with the out-patient department of the Massa- 
chusetts General Hospital. 

fl913. Mary S. Peters will graduate in June from the four-year secretarial 
course at Simmons College. 

fl913. Helen Danforth Prudden has been very sick this spring, but she 
is now much better. 

1913. Louise Thompson was bridesmaid at Ruth Niles's wedding last 

1913. Beatrice and Madeline Fiske have been living in New York with 
their mother this winter. Beatrice has been very ill, but is now better. 
Madeline is to be married on June 14, to Mr. George Worthington of Cleve- 
land, Ohio. 

1913. Irene Henderson is studying this winter at the Boston Conserva- 
tory of Music. 

1914. Constance Barbey is going to Miss Cummins's School in Boston 
this winter. 

fl915. More than one thousand Wellesley students have enlisted for 
military drill at the college. Muriel Baker has been appointed a platoon chief. 

fl915. Ada Wilkey has been taking the course at Miss Pierce's School of 
Shorthand in Boston this winter. 

fl915. Esther Sheldon Shinn and Margaret Blake graduated in April 
from the New Haven School of Gymnastics. 

fl916. Margaret Perry is working for the American Board of Foreign 
Missions at the Congregational House in Boston. 

fl916. Dorothy Pillsbury has spent most of the winter at home in Derry. 
In the late winter she went with her father and mother on a trip to Porto Rico. 

fl916. Josephine Walker went to Savannah to be bridesmaid for Mary 
Bell Gilbert, who was married on the first of May. 

1916. Elizabeth Willson is at home this winter. She went to Intervale 
with the 1917 girls and made a short visit at the school. Since then she has 
been taking the first-aid course, in the examination of which she got A plus. 

1916. Ruth Moore is studying at the Bryant-Stratton Commercial 
School in Boston. 

|1916. Myrtle Dean is at the Burdett Business School. 


Miss Titcomb, Elizabeth Willson, 1916, Anna Nettleton, tl893, Olga 
Erickson, fl913, Edith Bancroft, fl916, Dorothy Pillsbury, |1916, 
Frances Moses, fl916, Eleanor Black, fl916, Dorothy Higgins, fl916, Esther 
Kilton, t!916, Alice Hinkley Black, fl891, Ada Wilkey, fl915, Mrs. Ann 



Pearson Lewis, fl887, Emma Stohn, fl916, Elizabeth Kinnell, 1914, Margaret 
Belville Payne, fl907, Helen Thomas, fl909, Helen Hamblet, fl914, Lucretia 
Lowe, fl914, Margaret Perry, 11916, Marion Gould Smith, fl913, Winona 
Algie, fl900, Deborah Algie, 1910, Enid Baush, fl913, Katharine Odell, fl916, 
Mildred Crockett, 1915, Ruth Laton, fl916, Mrs. Biscoe. 


Miss Hazel Ruggles to Mr. Robert Addison Crosby. 

1912. Frances E. Skolfield to Mr. Lawrence W. Smith of Portland. 
tl913. Enid Baush to Mr. Ralph M. Patterson of Boston. 

1915. Pauline Jackson to Mr. Kenneth Payson Kempton, Harvard 1912. 
Mr. Kempton leaves his appointment as instructor at Harvard University to 
join the Naval Reserve. 

fl916. Lillian Sword to Mr. Carlos Rodriquez of New York City. 


fl907. Hall — Whyte. — In Oxford, Maine, September, 1916, Oena May 
Whyte to Mr. Ray Philip Hall. 

1908. Starke — Alden. — In Bridgewater, August 19, 1916, Mary Carver 
Alden to Mr. Arthur Starke. Address, 522 West 157th Street, New York City. 

fl909. McBride — Gilbert. — In Savannah, Georgia, May 1, 1917, Mary 
Bell Gilbert to Mr. William Cardwell McBride. 

|1909. Meek — Norpell. — In Newark, Ohio, May 17, 1917, Louise 
Norpell to Mr. Paul Deady Meek. 

1910. Briggs— Corey— In Brookline, February 1, 1917, Helen Hey- 
wood Corey to Mr. Charles Bowen Briggs. 

11911. Sagar— Walworth.— In Lawrence, April 10, 1917, Lillian Wal- 
worth to Mr. William Sutcliffe Sagar. At home, 217 Maple Street, New 

fl911. Jones — Wightman. — In New Britain, Connecticut, April 23, 1917, 
Jessie Noble Wightman to Mr. Louie Snow Jones. 

fl911. Weedon — Newton. — In Brookline, April 24, 1917, Rebecca 
Hardwick Newton to Mr. Daniel Reid Weedon. 

1911. Thompson— Niles.— In Boston, April 24, 1917, Ruth Elizabeth 
Niles to Mr. Richard Morgan Thompson. At home, Naugatuck, Connecticut. 

fl913. Smith — Gould. — In Lawrence, May 8, 1917, Marion Priscilla 
Gould to Mr. Charles Henry Smith. 

1913. Johnson — Gilbert. — In Washington, March 31, 1917, Katherine 
Kavanagh Gilbert to Mr. Thomas Clarkson Johnson, 2nd. At home, 3 Mace 
Place, Lynn. 

fl913. Tucker — Erickson. — In Brookline, June 2, 1917, Olga Marie 
Erickson to Mr. Paul Rogers Tucker. At home, after September 1, 229 
Harvard Street, Brookline. 

1914. Mahoney — Burke. — In Winthrop, April 11, 1917, Anna May 
Burke to Mr. William Mahoney. At home, Sterling Inn, Sterling, Massa- 




In Detroit, Michigan, March 23, 1917, a daughter, Elizabeth Cushman, 
to Mr. and Mrs. Frank 0. Patton (Charlotte L. Root). 

fl907. July 27, 1916, a daughter, Carolyn Saltus, to Mr. and Mrs. H. 
Floyd Folsom (Anna May Richards). 

fl907. In Taunton, April 15, 1917, a daughter, Charlotte Faunce, to 
Mr. and Mrs. Everett Wilbur Manter (Mabel Rhodes). 

fl908. In Lawrence, May 6, 1917, a son, Richard Harris, to Mr. and Mrs. 
Clifton H. Sugatt (Katharine Gowing). 

fl909. In Canton, Ohio, November 9, 1916, a son, Andrew McCarthy, 
to Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert L. Canterbury (Beulah McCarthy). 

fl91 1. In New Bedford, Mass., February 19, 1917, a son, Douglas 
Ordway, to Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher Douglas Parker (Katherine Lewis Ordway). 

1913. In Worcester, August, 1916, a son to Mr. and Mrs. Lynmont A. 
Trumbull (Hazel Norcross). 


In Porterville, California, April 28, 1917, Emily Page, wife of Rev. 
Charles N. Flanders. Teacher at Abbot Academy from 1870 to 1874. 
1852. In Reading, April 1914, H. Laura Pratt. 

1854. In Jamaica Plain, February 9, 1917, Mary A. Stevens, wife of 
George L. Huntington. 

1861. In Worcester, April 15, 1917, Caroline E. Harnden, wife of the 
late Hon. Carroll D. Wright. 

fl862. In Skaneateles, N. Y., March 31, 1917, Catherine E. Mills, wife 
of Elias R. Forsyth. 

fl886. In Boston, February 27, 1917, Florence C. Swalm, wife of Professor 
Charles M. Spofford. 

tl888. In Bradford, June 27, 1916, Maria L. Gardner. 
1911. In New Bedford, February 8, 1916, Marion Smith Hayward. 

Teacher of Literature, 1883-89 

An Abbot graduate who recently returned for a class reunion expressed 
her deep sense of gratitude to Mrs. Mead for awakening in her an enthusiastic 
appreciation of great literature. As teacher and as head of South Hall, Mrs. 
Mead will be remembered by many pupils with affection and respect. She 
was called from this work to the presidency of Mount Holyoke College, and 
for ten years rendered a valuable service in a most important period of its 
history, a period of transition and development. The degree of L.H.D. was 
conferred upon her in 1900 by Smith College and an honorary A.M. had 
previously been given her by Oberlin College. 

Since her resignation in 1900, Mrs. Mead has lived quietly in 
Oberlin, Ohio, with her daughter, rounding out a beautiful old age. She died 
in Cocoanut Grove, Florida, March 25, 1917, at the age of eighty-four years. 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, Sc. B., Principal, 

Psychology, Ethics, Theism, Christian Evidences 

KATHERINE R. KELSEY, Assistant Principal, 


History and English 


Literature and History of Art 





Mathematics and Astronomy 


History and Biology. Librarian 




French and Spanish 


Physical Education 

Vocal Expression 


Chorus Music, Piano, Organ and Harmony, History of Music 

Vocal Music 




Drawing and Painting 



Household Science 


Household Science 


Secretary to the Principal 


Supervisor of Day Scholars' Room 


In charge of Draper Hall. 


Resident nurse 


Keeper of Alumnae Records 


Baroness HUARD 

























School Organizations 

A. C. A. 


Rachel Olmstead 
Charlotte Fleming 
Clarissa Horton 
Cornelia Newcomb 

Representative Commttee of Student Council 

Elizabeth Bacon 
Charlotte Fleming 
Rachel Olmstead 
Catharine Yeakle 

Grace Prescott 

Gertrude Goss 
Mary Church 
Clarissa Horton 
Marion Chandler 

President . 
Vice-President . 
Secretary and Treasurer 

Fidelio Society 

Harriet Balfe 
Ruth Jackson 
Cornelia Newcomb 


Doris Emery 
Louise Bacon 
Elizabeth Doolin 
Katherine Pinckney 
Margaret Van Voorhis 

Julie Sherman 
Bernice Boutwell 
Helen French 
Louise Stilwell 
Virginia Vincent 

AtHletic Association 

President . 

Gertrude Goss 
Mary Church 
Harriet Murdock 
Esther Hungerford 

BasHetball Team 


Gertrude Goss 
Mary Church 

Glee Club 


Esther Davis 
Harriet Balfe 

Class Organisations 

Senior, '17 

President Elizabeth Bacon 

Vice-President ...... Catharine Yeakle 

Secretary . . . . . Doris Emery 

Treasurer ...... Janet Davis 

Class flower, Violet Class colors, Purple and white 

Class motto: "Live pure, speak true, right the wrong, 
follow the king." 

Senior Middle, 'IS 

President Margaret Van Voorhis 

Vice-President ...... Martha Grace Miller 

Secretary . . . . . . . Louise Bacon 

Treasurer ....... Natalie Weed 

Class flower, Yellow rose Class colors, Yellow and white 

Class motto: Ad astra per aspera 

Junior Middle, '19 

President ....... Marion Clark 

Vice-President Mildred Daniels 

Secretary ....... Muriel Johnson 

Treasurer Priscilla Brewster 

Class flower, Rose Class colors, Old Rose and silver 

Juniors, '20 

President Grace Prescott 

Vice-President ...... Catherine Greenough 

Secretary Helen Donald 

Treasurer ....... Louise Robinson 

Class flower, Lily-of-the- Valley 

Alumnae Association 



Mrs. Elizabeth Nichols Bean Mrs. Ellen Chamberlain Blair 

Mrs. Josephine Richards Gile Mrs. Laura Barron Brainerd 

Mrs. Rebecca Davis Spalding Miss Josephine Wilcox 

Miss Emily A. Means 

Secretary and Treasurer 
Miss Agnes Park 

Committee on Appropriations 
Miss Bertha Bailey Miss Agnes Park 



April 10, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
April 11, Wednesday, 9 a.m. 
June 12, Tuesday 

Summer Vacation 

September 19, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
September 20, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
November 29, Thursday 
December 20, Thursday, 12 m. 

Christmas Vacation 


January 9, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
January 10, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
February 2, Saturday 
February 4, Monday 
March 21, Thursday, 12 m. 

Spring Vacation 

April 3, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
April 4, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
June 11, Tuesday 

Spring term begins 
School year ends 

Fall term begins 
Thanksgiving Day 
Fall term ends 

Winter term begins 
First semester ends 
Second semester begins 
Winter term ends 

Spring term begins 
School year ends 




Compliments of 



T. F. MORRISSEY & SON, Proprietor 


Expressing and Jobbing 

Carriages and Hacks for Funerals, Weddings and Receptions 
Depot Work a Specialty 


Patronize our Advertisers 




Goods Stored, PacKed and Shipped 


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Bolt your lunch in a hurry, 

Rush to the first floor, 
Scribble your name in a scurry 

On the list by the office door. 


Wait around for an hour or two 

Then at last the waiting is done; 

But when you think your troubles are through 
Perhaps they've only begun. 






M. E. D ALTON, 42 Main St., ANDOVER 






Patronize our Advertisers 


For you're given a thing that's called a slip, 

It may look simple enough, 
But you may try tears or even a tip — 

No use, if you've tried to bluff. 


For sure enough, if your work is low, 
Into Boston you will not go. 

S. W. M. H. 

Reid & Hughes Company 


We Specialize on 

Ladies' Ready-to-wear Goods 
Full Line of Outer and Under Garments 
Ribbons, Laces, Millinery and Art Goods 

We Cheerfully Refund Money When Our Merchandise 
Does Not Please 



All kinds of FRUIT in their season 



Patronize ouk Advertisers 


When the breakfast bell rings and you should awake 

Without any groaning about it, 
Do you think with sad heart, "Oh, what if I'm late?" 

Well, maybe you do — but I doubt it. 


And if on a diet you are supposed to be, 

And everyone knows about it ; 
Do you say, "No, thanks," when offered cake and tea? 

Well, maybe you do — but I doubt it. 


Or if after lights a feast you've had, 

With no one to gossip about it, 
Do you argue the point twixt the good and the bad? 

Well, maybe you do — but I doubt it. 

K. R. 


Myerscough & Buchan 


Telephone 208 

Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

Compliments of a Friend 


Successors to W. F. RUTTER & CO. 

Steam, Water & Gas Piping 
Supplies and Tools 


Patronize our Advertisers 

A Low Fire Insurance Rate 

Is a Direct Result of Decreased 
Fire Hazard 

Improve Your Building, Thereby 
Reducing Your Insurance Cost 

Mutual Fire Insurance Co. 

(Incorporated 1828) 


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Sporting and Mufti Dress 

For Every Occasion 

13-15 Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

Patronize our Advertisers 


Must be well fitting — we assume 
the responsibility and take pride 
in offering YOU a periect fit 

Abbot Students are urged to become 
familiar with our service 


47 Temple Place 15 Water Street 

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Kodak and Photo Supplies Expert Bicycle Repairing 

H. F. CHASE - - Andover, Mass. 




Musgrove Bldg., Andover, Mass. 





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€i)e German Studio 

is now owned and conducted by 


Your needs in Photographic Work 
of any description will be met 
in a satisfactory manner by this Studio 

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Dry Goods and Groceries 

Corner Essex and Central Streets, Andover 

J. H. PLAYDON, Florist 



Store, Arco Building .... Tel. 105-3 
Greenhouses, Frye Village . . Tel. 109-11 

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3anuar\>, 1918 









My Flag 3 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

And That Was How It Happened 4 

Elizabeth Holmes, 1918 

The Straits of Messina 8 

Elisabeth M. Luce, 1919 

The Marsh 9 

Catharine Danforth, 1919 

The Greatest of These Is Charity 10 

Catherine McReynolds, 1918 

A Red Cross Package 13 

Eleanor Taylor, 1919 

"Moon Madness" — A Fantasy 14 

Elizabeth A. Gray, 1918 

One's Point of View 16 

Margaret Bailey Speer, 1918 

October 17 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

A Knitter in the Sun 18 

Constance Ling, 1920 

My Norma 19 

Marian Nichols, 1919 

The Courtship of Susie Jones 20 

Kathryn Beck, 1919 

Editorials 21 

School Journal 26 

Alumnae Notes 34 

The price of the Courant is one dollar a year; single copies fifty cents. 
All communications made to the Business Editors will be promptly attended to. 

ehr Anbnttrr 9reas 



Snaro of Eoitors 

dietary Editors 



SuBinpau £i>ttnrn 



Vol. XLIV JANUARY, 1918 No. I 

Stars from the blue vault of heaven, 
Stripes from the bleeding hearts of men, 
White from the light of the soul's pure might. 
Rises my flag again. 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

"Ctttfc Cfyat Was fjoro 3t ^appeneb " 

The western sun was slowly sinking, a fiery ball, into the wood 
far beyond the St. Lawrence. The little cobble-stoned street 
lay cold in the shadow, its low stone buildings faintly outlined 
in the paling light. From the old chocolate-shop, however, came 
a warming ray of light through the many-paned windows; grimy, 
they seemed, with the accumulated dust of ages. Six old men, 
all French-Canadians, sat around the smoky stove, filling and 
emptying their pipes, drinking, talking, with great gusto. 

"Non! Thees ees not our war," declared a stodgy old fisher- 
man. "Yankee can go to war if he so beeg fool. Fools, all off 

"Oui!" The chorus was unanimous. 

"England wants all," said another fisherman, slightly younger 
than the first. "What do we do but pay her beeg, moche monee. 
Monee! Moche monee!" He gesticulated so violently that 
some of the "tobac Canayen" spilled from his pipe and, cursing 
profoundly, he refilled it. 

"Oui! Oui!" came the chorus. Hundreds of times had these 
old cronies sat around the dirty stove airing their grievances 
toward England and the world in general. They hated the 
English and their allies. 

Came a knock at the sturdy door. The twilight had descended 
dark from the narrow street. 

"Come," the shop-keeper's gruff voice called out. Followed 
a clumsy fumbling of the latch and the door swung in. A slight 
start of astonishment passed around the little circle. Filling the 
doorway with his height stood a khaki-clad young fellow support- 
ing something limp in his arms. 

"Pardon!" he gasped. "Dick's — my comrade's fainted. 
Not entirely recovered from his wound. Can I take him over 
here? " 

Uncompromising silence greeted his plea for help ; the old men 
looked sullenly and hostilely upon him. 

" No place here for Yankee men," grunted the gnarly old shop- 
keeper. "Non. Beeg man better tak heem noder place. Oui." 

"Man! He can't go on, don't you see?" The man's eyes 
blazed. He clutched his comrade more tightly in his arms. 



"No place, no place," muttered the gnarly old man stupidly. 
"Beeg Yankee men," whispered the old cronies one to another. 

"M'sieu' !" A voice from the chilly darkness behind the 
stranger. "I have seen. Come. My home, it is but across the 
street. We take him there." A short, slender French girl 
plucked at the soldier's arm, indicating with her finger the 
direction they should take. Her brown eyes smiled reassuringly 
into his. 

"Merci, mademoiselle," he said with a sigh of relief. "We 
must be quick." The three crossed the cobble-stones to a 
humble stone house receding into the darkness. The door of 
the chocolate-shop clanged after them. The hostile old men 
puffed vigorously at their pipes. 

" Fools! " muttered one. " Et ees lak Marie," they all agreed . 

A newspaper had been fastened to one side of the lamp on the 
table so that the light might not be too bright for the wounded 
man's eyes, but even the subdued light thus allowed to escape 
around the edges was enough to reveal the cleanliness of the 
little room, the spotlessness of the curtains, the slender Marie 
bending over the still form on the cot, the tall khaki-clad stranger 
quietly talking to a middle-aged French woman. 

Jim Waring, an American in a Plattsburg uniform, told in 
simple words of the bravery of his wounded friend, Dick Henry, 
who had been sent back to Quebec from France where he had 

"The Boche nearly got him for fair," he said. "And to insure 
complete recovery he was sent here to recuperate. But that 
walk must have been too much. I ought to have more sense! 
If Marie had not come along at just the right minute — well, I 
hate to think of what might have happened. Those stupid old 

Madam Leroux nodded understanding. She liked this honest 
young American who was such an ardent supporter of "pre- 
paredness", as his uniform bore witness. Although certain 
things had prevented him from getting over to Europe before, 
he would be one of the first to go as an American officer. Ah 


yes — anything the good Americans wished, Madame would 
obtain it for them. She was a true French woman. 

"He sleeps," Marie whispered, softly tip-toeing across the 
room. The floor creaked apathetically. 

Dick Henry remained in the little house nearly three weeks 
after Jim had been called back to the States that next morning. 
One look into Marie's honest eyes was enough to convince him 
that he was in safe hands — very lovely hands, he thought, as 
he glanced at hers. As the days went by, he grew to love the 
neat little place and to think with regret of the time when he 
should have to leave it. He had never known anyone like Marie 
in all his life! As for Marie, she had never dreamed of anyone 
like this great young fellow who had been cited for bravery and 
decorated with the Croix de Guerre, and who was, nevertheless, 
so helplessly at her mercy. Madame shook her head a little as 
she noticed the devotion in the girl's brown eyes. 

The day of parting came at length. It was just after the 
United States had declared war on Germany that Marie walked 
bravely with Dick to the train which was to take him away 
from her. They said little; each was thinking, thinking. Dick 
kissed her good-bye, and it seemed to her that his blue eyes were 
telling her what he had failed to say. But they parted — and 

the girl went home to sob out her heart in loneliness and longing. 


It was the day after the first commissions had been given to 
the men at Ft. Sheridan. A group of fellow-officers were standing 
in the officers' mess talking together — about a girl. 

"They say she has millions in her own name," said one. "Good 
catch all right. Just the thing for Dick." 

"All right if you like that cold type of beauty. Not for mine! 
Give me — — ' 

"But they say papa's planning a match with young Brakewell- 
Taylor. If so, no hope for — oh, hello, Dick!" The speaker 
broke off suddenly as Dick strode in. 

"Why so disgruntled-looking, old man?" they asked him. 
"Here you have your commission, captain, you're in love with 
a beautiful heiress, you're a husky " 



"I'm not," Dick broke in rather enigmatically. "That's all 
off. Her father's taking her to Honolulu to-morrow." 

"Tough luck, old man " but Dick had already passed into 

the next room. 

"Well, I'll be — hello, here's Waring! We'll tell him the facts 
and he'll be able to fix him up. It sure's great to have old Jim 
down here again, if it is only for a jiffy." 

After five minutes consultation with the men, Waring went 
in pursuit of Dick. He was a bit worried. He could hardly 
imagine his good old pal making the mistake of falling in love 
with money instead of with a girl. A girl! There was a real 
girl, he remembered, up near Quebec. If he could get Dick to 
thinking straight he would remember, too. Little Marie! 

He found Dick down by old Lake Michigan staring at it 
vacantly as it pounded up the beach. Pounding, pounding — 
Dick felt as if there was something he had forgotten — some- 
thing that had once meant to him true happiness. 

After an hour or more of very weighty talk, Dick began to see 
the light. Of course he had never been in love with that cold 
beauty — cold money — how could he, when — and suddenly 
he remembered, with a flush of red mounting over his clean-cut 
young face, he remembered Marie with her quick, unexpected 
ways, the warmth of her great dark eyes. He felt a tug at his 
heart as he thought of how tiny she was. Good Lord! What 
had he been thinking of all this time? 

Followed an anxious period of many letters sent and quite a 
few received; then the final red tape of getting leave "to be 
married, sir", the last telegram, and Dick was on his way once 
more to Quebec town. 

"Marie!" he cried when he saw her, and clasped her in his big 
strong arms. 

"O Dick, I knew you come back some time!" she cried with 
a little catch in her voice. 

As they entered the little cobble-stone street where they had 
first met, the sun was just sinking, a fiery ball, into the woods 
beyond the St. Lawrence. Looking through the grimy panes 
of the chocolate-shop they could see the six old men, smoking, 
drinking, talking with great gusto. 

The two laughed merrily together. 

"And that was how it happened," they murmured. 

Elizabeth Holmes, 1918 

Cfye Straits of ZTTesstna 

The ship was gliding calmly over the smooth blue-green water 
that divides the toe of the great boot of Italy from the little 
stretch of land called Sicily. Never did ocean-water look more 
like colored glass, never had sky been bluer, never had day 
been fairer. Not a cloud was in the skies and the sharp outline 
of the horizon could be traced easily except for a space behind 
us, to the left, where towers upon towers of mist banked them- 
selves against the sky it seemed, and just above shone out the 
snowy peak of Mt. Aetna. We had passed this a short while 
before and its great height, pure whiteness, and the awe that 
surrounded it made us feel inexpressibly small and insignificant, 
for its grandeur and majesty had instant influence. 

The decks had not once in the three weeks' journey been more 
popular, for now even those poor souls who prefer land to sea 
were venturing out to catch a glimpse of the beautiful countries 
on either side of us. On the right the red-roofed houses, the 
patches of green that looked like flourishing little gardens, the 
merry rivers pouring their clear, sparkling water into the salt- 
water straits — all these things gave sure tokens of land — land ! 
And then on the left the dark forests with their enticing cool and 
shade, the little wavering ribbons of smoke from behind the 
woods — these too gave a delightful homey feeling to all, but 
especially to those who walked the decks continually, or more 
probably did not walk at all. 

But suddenly, like a clap of thunder, a slight mist surrounded 
us,which was in two minutes so thick that you felt as if you could 
have taken a knife and cut it. There was a mad rush for the 
doors; it seemed almost as if the strong breeze which sprang up 
was blowing the passengers in. Of course this was only what it 
seemed like; but straightforward reality showed that the waves 
were actually being beaten. Several persons, I noticed, who saw 
that they would still have a matter of a minute to wait, stole 
pale-facedly to the railings and gazed over at the fishes. 

But all this really took a short time. Soon the decks were 
left to two of us girls and one elderly gentleman. And this was, 
I think, the most interesting part of the day. The tremendous 



ship actually made an angle of about sixty degrees with the 
ocean surface ; steamer chairs banged noisily against the railings 
and were finally persuaded to float upon the waves below. And 
these "waves below" — never do I hope to see a more glorious 
sight for color harmony and changeableness. The sun, though 
he himself could not be seen, pierced light through the mists, so 
that all the colors of the rainbow danced upon the chopped 
waves which were driving in every direction and cutting sharply 
into each other. For this was Homer's Charybdis. 

The mists faded away, the water grew calm, the ship straight- 
ened up like a soldier called to attention, and before long we 
were gliding over the calm Mediterranean — the bluest of all seas. 

Elisabeth M. Luce, 1919 

Far out to sea there stretched a salt sea marsh — 

The grasses gently waving in the breeze — 

Soft green the grass, with crimson tint of marsh, — 

Before, a score of tall and stately trees, 

Lacey the treetops swaying in the breeze, 

Clouds across the deep blue of the sky, 

Only the giant whisper of the leaves 

And the velvet-shadowed grasses' sigh — 

Then slowly a great white-winged gull soared up on high. 

Catharine Danforth, 1919 

tlfye (greatest of Cfyese is Charity 

Maxwell Durant stood before his easel, and scowled darkly 
at his picture. A great expanse of blue sky, the ocean (a queer 
greenish-blue), and one lone seagull hovering over the crest of a 
wave, watching, waiting — that was all. He realized vaguely 
that it was the best thing he had ever done, but still he was not 
quite satisfied. Was it the wing of the gull that was wrong? 
Rapidly he mixed some grey and white oils, and sketched the 
result on the canvas. Just then came a knock at the door of his 
studio, and in walked a bright-faced young boy, dressed in a 
new and ill-fitting uniform. 

"Father," the boy began. 

The man at the easel started, wheeled around, and gazed 
stupefied at the uniform. Then he spoke. 

"Jack! You too?" His voice broke. "Why didn't you tell 
me, lad? I never dreamed — No, no, you're too young by far! 
O boy, think of me! " 

The boy turned toward the window and looked out. Snow was 
softly falling, and as it fell it seemed to hush the noises in the 
street and release the great city from some hidden bond of 
restraint. It was growing late in the afternoon, and lights 
began to twinkle in the adjoining buildings. A peaceful quiet- 
ness brooded over all. The studio grew darker and darker. 
Suddenly Jack spoke. 

"Father, I couldn't be a quitter, could I? After Ted and 
Billy went — O Dad, don't you see? I'm just as much your 
son as they. And then when Ted was killed! I know I'm only 
eighteen but I passed as twenty-one, and they are going to take 
my school drill as enough preparation. I sail within two weeks, 

The room was silent again. Without, the snow fell faster and 
faster, and the busy old city seemed to nestle within its white 
mantle and then sleep, softly and soundly. A log fell in the 
fireplace, and flared up in a blaze for a moment. Then there 
was darkness again. 

"I reckon it's tough on you, Governor. It's tough on me, too. 
Think what pals we've been, Dad!" The boy paused for a 
moment. "Then there's mother, too.," he added rather quietly. 


1 ! 

"I think she would want me to fight for my country — and for 
France. And there's something else, too, Father. I'm ashamed 
of it, but ever since Ted was killed, I've just wanted to get hold 
of that Boche or any Boche and kill, kill, kill. It makes me see 
red, and I've tried so hard not to feel that way. But it's there, 
and I've just got to go — that's all." 

He stopped abruptly, and Maxwell Durant, who had gone 
pale at the mention of his dead wife's name, suddenly held out 
his hand. 

"God bless you, my boy!" was all he said. 

He looked back over the past. Wasn't it this boy's right to 
serve in the cause of humanity? His own father had been a 
colonel in the Confederate army during the Civil War, and one 
of his ancestors had been on Washington's staff. He, himself, 
had served in the Spanish War, and had lost an arm — for- 
tunately the left, so that he could still paint. W T hat did it 
matter that he had given two sons and that Jack was all he had 
left? What did it matter that Ted was lying cold and forsaken 
"somewhere in France", without even a little wooden cross to 
mark his grave? In fact, what did anything matter? He caught 
himself up sharply. Did nothing really matter? He smiled 
grimly. Everything mattered — but he was no coward. If 
other people gave all of their sons, why couldn't he? 

It was a very different man who said good-bye to his last son — 
off for France. It was a man who looked things squarely in the 
face. Because of his one arm he couldn't serve in the army, but 
he could be of use to those who were in service. It was in this 
spirit that he founded his club for the men going to the front, 
and changed his rich studio into a reading-room and writing- 
room for the soldiers. 

Then came the cable, three months later, saying that both 
Billy and Jack had been killed in action on the same day, and 
that their lives had paid for the new ground the Allies had 
gained in their latest drive. Just for a moment he felt sorry 
for himself, and compared himself to his painting of the gull, 
alone, watching and waiting — for nothing. 

Then came Jack's letter — a wonderful revelation to the 
grief -stricken father. 



"I no longer want to kill the Boches, Dad. I just want to 
crush and stamp out the tyranny back of them. O Father, I 
wish you could realize the spirit of the trenches. They don't 
talk a lot of religion. It isn't that. It's just that somehow the 
boys know that God is backing them and that they need His 
help. Here you realize, too, that you can never be alone. There 
are so many other people working unselfishly everywhere. Why, 
Dad, the real thing after all is just to serve others!" 

Jack, his own son, had written him this. He smiled a little 
sadly, and then sought a quiet grave in an old-fashioned church- 
yard, and kneeling beside it, he said softly: 

" Celeste, I have given them all — all of our sons. Even Jack. 
First for your sake, so that other wives and mothers may be 
safe, and next for their own country and for France. And still 
there is something left so long as there is any task, however small, 
that I can do for other boys who are going over there to fight — 
some even to die as our sons have died." 

Catherine McReynolds, 1918 

CI Heo Cross package 

Christmas in the trenches it not like Christmas in the States, 
but even there it's Christmas. Even there there is "peace on 
earth and good will to men." In spite of mud and water and cold, 
the men forget war and act like boys — that is, if they are lucky 
and receive boxes and news from home. 

It seemed to Micky that all the army, with the exception of 
only himself, was happy in opening package upon package filled 
with good things to eat and little comforts that thoughtful, 
loving hands had sent. Micky had no mother, no sister and no 
"girl" — he had never "had a way with women", had never 
paid the slightest attention to them. How he cursed himself for 
it now! 

Slowly, sadly, he wandered up the Company street. Here an 
elated corporal was trying on a new sweater and showing to his 
comrades the new picture of the girl who had made it. Here a 
war-worn sergeant wept and laughed over a letter from his 
smallest daughter. Here two pals exchanged the news from home, 
consuming meanwhile many chocolates and apples. 

Micky had thought himself too proud to accept a Red Cross 
Christmas package, but now he changed his mind and claimed 
one at the Y. M. C. A. shack. He went to his bunk to open it. 
Again his pride smote him, and he threw the package under his 
cot. At last in desperation he picked it up and opened it. An 
olive drab handkerchief fell out. He might have known it! How 
he hated that color — it was nothing but drab, drab, drab — 
uniforms, mud, sky, and his outlook on life! But he kept on 
unwrapping. He was glad to get that razor, and a pipe and 
tobacco brightened life perceptibly. Chocolate — just what he 
had longed for. But as he opened the last little package all 
these things fell unheeded to the floor. It was a picture he found — 
a picture of a smiling girl who seemed to look up at him and say, 
"Why so glum — dear?" Yes, he could read the tenderness in 
her eyes; he knew she would have said "dear". 

An hour later when the boys came to get him to share their 
fun, they found him with his head on his arms and a picture of a 
laughing girl propped up before him, while over the floor, un- 
heeded, rolled pipe, tobacco, shaving-soap, chocolate and olive 
drab handkerchiefs. Eleanor Taylor, 1919 

"ZTCoon ZHabness" — a fantasy 

"Please, oh! please!" begged a Voice. 

"Well, of all things!" muttered the Man. "But in this rig, 
and on such a night, what could be expected? " Then, peering 
up into the flaming red and dull brown of the great oak, whence 
came the Voice — "Please what? " he asked. 

"Do something!" urged the Voice. The man thought he 
caught a glimpse of a laughing face in the moonlight. Then 
there was a tiny movement, as if some one peeping down, 
suddenly drew back. 

"If I do, will you, O wood-nymph, come down?" he queried. 

"Yes, ah yes! What you wish, only do something!" 

For answer he unslung the mandolin from his shoulder and 
softly touching a few chords began a love-song, old as the ages. 
He was young, and good to look at. Clad in the garb of 
" Pierrot ", a dark cloak flung round him, he might well have been 
some demi-god, called to life by the moonlight, and the music 
of a Voice in the oak. 

The song ended. Silence. Then there was a rustle of leaves. 
For an instant the moonlight glinted on a silver buckle and a 
slender foot sought a lower branch. The Voice stood beside him. 

She was small, unbelievably tiny, with wide grey eyes and a 
vivid little face framed in heavy bronze curls. Soft white shoul- 
ders gleamed from a gown of palest yellow. The red, red rose at 
her belt was a spot of flaming color. 

The Man stood astounded at her flashing loveliness. Then 
he whispered, "Dryad of the Oak! Tell me! Why have you 
come tonight? " 

"Since the moon first rose above the sea, O Man! I have been 
waiting for you. Come!" She took his hand and led him 
toward -the sea. He was heedless of the way. Her nearness 
enchanted him; the delicate perfume of her hair charmed him; 
her fingers, laced in his, bound his closer than iron chains. "To- 
night is my night," she continued. "For one night I live and — 
love." She sighed. 

"O Dryad!" his lips mumbled, "O Dryad! for you are a 
Dryad " 

"moon madness"— a fantasy 


They were on the sands now and only the sea and the moon 
were near. She loosened his fingers and stretched her hands 
toward the glowing path in the water. "Soon, soon I shall go 
over the bridge. Back to " 

"Dryad!" His voice broke, and there was quiet. Then a 
tinkling laugh rang out. And the sea and the sands laughed 
with her — a mirthful, murmuring sound. 

Backing off slowly, she spoke. "You have played the game 
well, but you have lost. That kiss " 

A red, red rose dropped at his feet and blindly he stooped to 

pick it up. Again the laugh tinkled out. 


The jack-o'-lanterns lighted the gloom softly in the wide 
garden. Dim, fantastic figures moved about. Now and again 
a girl's high laugh or the deep voice of a man rang out distinctly 
from the low, insistent music and the whispering of the leaves. 

Near the gazing-globe a man spoke. "And after tonight you 
will no longer be a Dryad? " 

"My bridge of moonlight leads far, far from all this to — to — " 
she faltered, wide grey eyes on his face, "to a factory. Only for 
this one night, when all the world is playing make-believe, did 
I lose myself and become a — Dryad. Tomorrow I shall be only 
a girl, with all my magic gone." 

"But what of the red, red rose that lies on my heart? Will 
it lose its magic, too?" the man insisted. "Dear little Dryad, 
the spell you have cast on me will last forever." 

Again there was silence. And the shimmering path of the 
moon had dimmed to darkness. 

Elizabeth A. Gray, 1918 

(Dne's point of Ptcn? 

Other people's ideas may not be changed by circumstance, but 
my own most certainly are. My point of view one day is dia- 
metrically opposite from my point of view the day before and the 
day after, and it changes entirely according to conditions and 
circumstances. Before I get up on a cold morning my bed seems 
the only comfortable spot in the universe, but once I am up and 
dressed my point of view is changed and I have no sympathy 
with my room-mate who has the ordeal of deciding to get up 
still before her. 

Try it yourself and see whether you have a high and lofty 
spirit untouched and uninfluenced by your position in life. Try 
riding down Fifth Avenue in a limousine on a cold, dreary day, 
when a sudden shower commences. Watch the women running 
into the stores, the men turning up their coat collars, and the 
newsboys holding their papers over their heads. As the gutters 
become full of water, watch the women holding up their skirts, 
and trying to avoid wetting their high-heeled pumps; look at 
the disgusted expression on the faces of the men who miss their 
footing on the treacherous pavements, or who are spattered 
with mud by the passing motor cars. Are you sorry for these 
people? Yes, perhaps. But are you so deeply affected by their 
discomfort that you do not enjoy your own ease? Are you willing 
to change places with them? Certainly not. If they were really 
wretched and miserable you might feel differently, but as it is, 
you ride on in your comfortable car, and wonder why they 
didn't have sense enough to stay at home, or at least to bring 

But suppose the limousine is not your own, only a friend's, 
and next week you have to walk down the avenue. If it is cold 
and snowy, and you are hurrying home in the six o'clock rush, 
how do you feel then? Are you sorry now for the people who turn 
up their collars? Yes indeed, you are one of them, and you can 
sympathize most heartily with the I. W. W.'s. You would 
willingly throw a stone, if you had one, at the window of the 
hotel where fat women are seen wearing jewelry that cost the 
price of a hundred carloads of coal. It would give you great 

one's point of view 


pleasure to make the fur-clad girls in the limousine get out and 
walk, and have their hats crushed in the subway jam. What 
business have they to be riding when you and all the others are 
cold and wet and far away from your homes in the suburbs. 
Of course, if you are truly great, and always able to see the other 
fellow's point of view, you may not have these human feelings, 
but I frankly admit that I do. 

Margaret Bailey Speer, 1918 


Golden sunshine, 

Swirling leaves, 

Brilliant sky 

And autumn breeze — 

Can you not, oh heart of mine, 

Feel the joyousness of these? 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

CI Knitter in tfye Sun 

Scene: A crooked market street in Chalons, France. In the 
foreground, a thatched cottage jutting abruptly onto the 
street as if crowded out by the higher buildings around. On 
the stone doorstep sits a woman. She is knitting. The step 
is flooded with the warm afternoon sun. 

Time: Present day. 

Mere Rodrigue: 

"A> — b, — c, — d, that is four; four stitches, drop a stitch. 
Yes, that is how it goes. Nine more is i. So easy a method, and 
so clear to read — if you comprehend it! Ah, that is where the 
trick lies! A clever man is my Rudolph, to have thought of it, — 
no Frenchman could have — nor will guess it ! They are so 
stupid — the French. They see and yet are blind, blind to their 
very death sentences, — that my gray war birds carry to the 

"Ah, good day to you, friend Pinot. It is a heavy basket you 
carry to the market today. I would that my son were still here 
and he would carry it for you. But he is just now left. Back 
to the fighting again — for France. He is a good boy, Jules. 
No furlough passes that he is not with me. Not many sons, 
risen as he has to an officer's uniform, would visit their poor old 
mothers, my friend. 

"Oh, how they take it all, these people, like silly fishes wrig- 
gling under my fingers and yapping out, ' Good Mere Rodrigue, 
always knitting for the poor boys in the prison camps! It is a 
great, good work you do for France.' Ah, it is a good work I do, 
and a great one — but not for France ! How their silly mouths 
would gape and their eyes hang out if they knew the secret of my 
knitting! Three devoted patriots are Rudolph and I and our son. 
Yet will this turmoil never cease and our reward for service come? 
Will these upstarts against law and order never be whipped and 
let us return to our peaceful homes? 

"Three rows, then one, that is a. A good message it carries 
this time! Click, click, click, my fingers are weary of this eternal 
knitting. How I wish the war would end ! " 

Constance Ling, 1920 

ZTCy ZTorma 

Far more graceful than are swaying reeds 
That bend and dance around the woodland lakes, 
More joyous than the soaring lark one heeds 
As through the day his jubilant course he takes, 
More holy than a blessing for our sakes, 
More fair than flowers by the roadside sown, 
More sweet than song the bird at noontide makes. 
More pure than whitest lilies newly blown, 
Is she, lovely Norma, whom I call my own. 

Marian Nichols, 1919 

Cfye Courtship of Susie 3 ones 

"John, are you crazy?" his sister demanded. 
"Well, Ellen, perhaps I am; in fact, I know that I am." 
"But of all things to tell me, me, that you intend to marry 
Susie Jones." 

"My dear," corrected John quietly, "if she will have me." 

"Tell me, John Smith, how do you ever expect to win Susie 
Jones, when the deacon is courting her. Do you think any girl 
would ever marry a John Smith, even if he is a namesake of a 
great man, when she could have a deacon? If you will look out 
of the window now, you can see the deacon going up her walk." 

Susie Jones was the youngest spinster in the small community 
of Blacksonville where John and Ellen lived. She was by no 
means young, she had long ago passed the thirty mark, but still 
she was considered as very youthful and girlish there and people 
often said how "cute" she was. 

Ellen's thought that her brother would never win Susie, 
because she could have a deacon, was no proof that her brother 
was not in high favor. In fact, the opposition between the two 
bachelors ran very high. 

Susie Jones was going to have another birthday. It was with 
great dismay that the two rivals tried to think of a suitable 
present for her. Each one wanted to give her a present which 
she would esteem higher than the other. The deacon decided 
on a large fan set with many-colored glass stones, over which 
all Blacksonville exclaimed. It was the most gorgeous thing 
they had ever seen. John sent her flowers — and — John won 

Later he took his sister into his confidence and said: "When I 
heard that the deacon had bought her such a gorgeous gift I was 
in dismay, and then I had an idea. I sent her flowers, but I sent 
her only twenty-nine roses on her thirty-fifth birthday!" 

Kathryn Beck, 1919 


When we came back to school in the fall we knew that the 
summer had been a sad one for Miss Bailey, for her friend, Miss 
Anne Elizabeth Morse, had been very ill. They spent the sum- 
mer months together, keeping house, with cosiness and some 
happy hours, at the Abbot Infirmary; but the end came very 
quietly in Boston on the fourth of November. 

The friendship of Miss Bailey and Miss Morse had been one 
of unusual closeness. They had lived and taught together for 
many years. After Miss Bailey came to Andover, Miss Morse 
was a frequent visitor at the school, and we miss her bright 
presence, her sparkling talk, and ready sympathy. We see all 
around us signs of her touch — in the bright furnishings of the 
Infirmary and in the soft browns of the drawing-room. She had 
a genius for expression, in conversation, in music, in painting. 
During these last years she took great pleasure in photography, 
and has made us see with new eyes many of our old haunts, the 
grove, the old railroad. 

Though we had known her for so short a time, we can under- 
stand that her place in Miss Bailey's affection cannot be filled, 
and we wish to give Miss Bailey our deepest sympathy. 

Nineteen-eighteen — a new year has come! It is likely that 
the dawn of this year will be remembered as something a little 
different from those other new years dwindling into the past 
behind us. Nineteen-eighteen finds us a nation at war, a nation 
which has been awakened with a start. To be sure, the start 
caused her a bewildered pause of rubbing her sleepy eyes, but 
now that she is awake, let nineteen-eighteen lead her on to 
victory in the noble cause for which she is fighting! Who can 
say without a tremor that this new year is no different from 
others? Never before in the history of our country, in the history 
of the world, has there dawned a year promising and meaning 
so much to mankind . Thousands of our men are already across the 
sea, hundreds of thousands are in training in our own country, 
to take their places at the Front. Can we think of our boys 



"over there" without a thrill that the new year should find us 
thus? Is there any one of us who would have had it find us other- 
wise? No — not while the Great War is being fought for the 
freedom of the world. America must win the war. The secret 
of her success will lie in the co-operation and good-will every 
citizen must give to the government. We must be personally 
efficient in every way, we must learn self-sacrifice. We must 
be able to look the new year squarely in the face, prepared for 
anything it may unfold to us. Once more the spirit of '76 is 
rising. Are you ready? Nineteen-eighteen — we are ready — 
Carry on ! 

Realizing early in the school year that the present need of our 
nation and its future stability and progress demand from each 
citizen the highest possible quality of service, the Abbot Patriotic 
League was formed. A mass-meeting of the student body was 
held in Abbot Hall the night of October 25th, when the con- 
stitution of the League was read to us. On the twenty-sixth of 
October each girl pledged herself to the Abbot Patriotic League 
and signed her name below the momentous document. The 
purpose of the League is to prepare us to do our best, so that we 
may give our best to our country. In order to do this, our lives 
must be organized on lines of personal efficiency; we must 
demand of ourselves excellence in everything instead of 

In special training for present service there are four one- 
period-a-week classes, each girl attending at least one class. 
Miss Chickering lectures on The Responsibilities of Democracy; 
Miss King, on Civic Problems. There are classes in First Aid, 
under Miss Aldred's direction, and also there is a Surgical Dress- 
ings class under Miss Mason. All of these are very interesting 
and instructive. One hour a week there is a military drill of 
faculty and students, for self-control, teamwork and endurance, 
and esprit de corps. An officers' training class has also been 
formed, composed of volunteers from the Senior and Senior 
Middle classes. W 7 e are very fortunate in having as our com- 
manding officer Major Davy, who has seen service in France 
and is at present training the R. O. T. C. of Phillips Academy. 



The effect of the Abbot Patriotic League is already apparent 
in the school. The girls are more alert, more enthusiastic, more 
personally efficient, better prepared for the unknown than they 
have ever been before. 

This is the first winter that the United States has been in the 
Great War, the first winter that our troops will be in 
the trenches. Everything has changed; we are forgetting 
our self-centered interests in a greater love of service for 
our country. There isn't time or place in these days of efficiency 
for people who are not willing to sacrifice personal interests for 
the good of the nation. We are beginning to realize that life after 
all isn't such a big joke. Our lives are our own to make what 
we will of them. Are we going to offer ourselves to our country 
as frivolous, shallow women without a thought for the future, 
or shall we be wide awake and efficient? The idea that a woman 
was not a lady if she showed herself capable of using her brain 
and thinking straight to the point, was old-fashioned long ago. 
Now that the future of our country depends largely on the girls 
of the land, we are taking upon ourselves a great responsibility — 
in the first place, we must be ready for the boys when they come 
home after the war. They won't be satisfied in finding us the 
same pleasure-loving girls without a single serious thought that 
they left when they went overseas "to make the world safe for 
democracy". We can't be wasting our time, the world won't 
stand still and wait, and we must take our opportunity as it is 
now offered to us. 

"Believe in your mission, greet life with a cheer, 
There's big work to do and that's why you are here. 
Carry on. Carry on! 
Let the world be better for you." 

A short time after Belgium was invaded by the Germans, in 
August, 1914, before people had recovered from the first horrible 
shock, war poetry made its appearance. The predominating 
note was hate, a fierce, hot hatred of everything German. As 
the troops of the Allies went into action, the countries flamed 
with patriotism, the poets sang of flags and loyalty and love of 
country. Then came the casualty lists — a shudder swept over 



the world — was it possible that they weren't coming back? 
And the sobs and despair of the mothers was echoed in the 
poetry. Public sentiment has changed in 1917; the grief of 
three years of war is expressed in the recent poetry which is 
dignified and tender. The lives of men such as Rupert Brooke 
and Alan Seeger have done much to purify and strengthen the 
poetry. English poets are now treating the war at a certain 
distance, avoiding the ugly side; while poems that are making 
the deepest impression are often spiritual. 

Shall we start a course in war slang? Shall we devote a little 
time every day to the study of slang in order that we may not 
get behind? Is it not important to us that we should be able to 
read the newspapers and understand our own English language? 

How many of you know what mufti, nose-cap, on the mat and 
sap means? If a person should say to you, "He's pushing up 
the daisies", could you understand him? In all probability you 
could not. If we should start a course in slang, it would be one 
of the most difficult courses in the school. Vocabularies would 
have to be studied, constant practice in the correct use of the 
words, and the daily reading of newspapers would be required. 
Every week many words which were learned the week before 
would become obsolete, and one of the greatest mistakes would 
be to use an obsolete slang word ! 

A friendship is a satisfying thing; that is, if it is a real friend- 
ship, not a flimsy affair built on propinquity, or a desire to "get 
something out of someone " . A real friendship is a deep, generous, 
tender regard which two people share, one for the other. It is 
sympathetic, it is self-sacrificing; it brings more of the real joy 
of living into life than anything else — even more than love, 
which is undependable. And the course of true friendship did 
ever run more smooth than the course of true love. It is a 
beautiful, yes, even a wonderful thing to possess a friend. 

There have been a number of changes in the faculty this year. 
Miss Sherman has been given a year's leave of absence and is 
living with her mother in Springfield. The French classes are 



being conducted by Miss Dorothy Parkhurst, who has lived and 
studied abroad for several years, assisted by Madame Florence 
Stelle Wright, a native of France, who has taught in this country 
for a number of years. Miss Ruth Lane, who graduated from Smith 
in 1910 and was at RadclifTe in 1916-17, is teaching Mathe- 
matics in place of Miss Elliott; and Miss Ruth Marceau, Vassar 
1910, is taking the place of Miss Martin as Miss Pettingell's 
assistant in the Latin department. Miss Octavia Mathews, a 
graduate of Colby College, is conducting the classes in Spanish 
and is also taking charge of Sherman Cottage. Miss 
Louise Whiting, a graduate of the Boston School of Physical 
Education, is taking Miss Carson's place as director of Athletics 
and Physical Education, and the classes in Rhythmic Expression 
are being continued by Miss Emily Adams, a pupil of Mrs. 
Florence Fleming Noyes. Miss Bertha Morgan has charge of 
the work in Vocal Expression, in place of Miss Potter. The 
Household Science department is continuing its connection with 
the Garland School of Homemaking in Boston, under the direc- 
tion of Miss Edith Caroline Badger, a member of the faculty 
of the Garland School. Miss Roberta Pickering, who graduated 
from Vassar in 1917, is assisting Miss Mason in the Chemistry 
classes; and Mr. Ashton has an assistant in the Music depart- 
ment, Miss Hathaway of Salem. 

Scbooi 3ournal 



19 School begins. 

21 Student Government meeting in Abbot Hall. 

22 Hall Exercises. Miss Bailey: General Rules and Instructions. 

23 Evening chapel. Miss Bailey: The Understanding Heart. 
25 A. C. A. Dance for the new girls, in Davis Hall. 

29 Hall Exercises. Miss Bailey read selections from Hermann Hagedorn's 

book, Ye Are the Hope oj the World. 

30 Sunday evening service in Davis Hall. Miss Bailey: The Meaning of 



2 Senior Picnic at Haggett's Pond. 

5 The seeing off of the Andover drafted boys. 

6 Hall Exercises. Miss Whiting: Hygiene. 

7 Dr. Ross Stevenson of Princeton Theological Seminary: "Service and 


13 Mr. Hermann Hagedorn read from Fifes and Drums — America at the 

Outbreak of the War. 

14 Rev. William H. Ryder of Andover Theological Seminaiy: Using Our 


16 Senior-Middle Picnic. 

17 Drives along the North Shore and to Concord and Lexington. 

21 Y. M. C. A. Friendship War Fund meeting in Abbot Hall. 

22 Kreisler Recital in Lawrence. 

23 Poverty Party in Davis Hall. 

25 Abbot Patriotic League Mass Meeting in Abbot Hall. 
30 Hallowe'en Party in Davis Hall. 


3 Hall Exercises. Miss Sanderson: Posture. 

4 Rev. D. Brewei Eddy: Work in War Camps. 
7 Abbot- Bradford Hockey Game at Bradford. 

11 Rev. Clark Carter: Lawrence City Mission. 

17 Dr. Clarence A. Barbour of Rochester: Work in Spartanburg. 

20 Corridor Stunts in Davis Hall. 

24 Major Davy: Introduction to Military Training. 

25 Miss Stone of the Hindman School in Kentucky tells us of her work there. 



26 Senior art class visits Mrs. Jack Gardner's palace with Miss Howey. 

28 Thanksgiving Service at school. 

28 Party in the Phillips Academy gymnasium. 


2 Rev. Henry C. Boynton: Facing Ultimate Issues. 

3 Godowsky Recital in Lawrence. 

5 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Rann Kennedy read The Rib of the Man in Davis 

8 First Abbot Academy Recital, by Mr. George Copeland, pianist. 

9 Mr. Henry: Abbot Patriotic League. 

1 1 Two plays are given in Davis Hall for the benefit of the surgical dressings 
fund by the A. P. L. 

15 Christmas party in Davis Hall for the children of Andover. 

16 Christmas Serv ice in Davis Hall. 

19 Christmas party in the McKeen Rooms. 

20 Holidays begin. 

JANUARY, 1918 

9 School starts. 

13 Rev. Dumont Clarke: Coming to Ourselves. 

16 First meeting of Officers' Training Class. 

17 Mr. W. W. Ellsworth, president of The Century Company: Forty Year? 

of Publishing. 
19 Dr. Charles R. Brown: "What then shall we do?" 


The evening of October 13th we had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Hermann 
Hagedorn read to us in Davis Hall. Stirring little poems of America at the 
outbreak of the war were read to us from Fife and Dtums, and then, because 
it was impossible to let a poet depart without our hearing something of his 
own writing, Mr. Hagedorn read us one of his longer poems, The Ode of Dedi- 
cation. Everyone was enthusiastic both about Mr. Hagedorn and the poems 
he read, and the memory of the delightful evening he afforded us will remain 
a long time with us. 

Miss Marguerite Sanderson of the Boston School of Physical Education 
spoke to us in Abbot Hall, November 3rd, on the subject of posture. Her 
talk was good, convincing, and beneficial. Miss Sanderson herself seemed to 
be a living exponent of her ideas. 

Twc very interesting Sunday evening talks were given this fall in Abbot 
Hall by Rev. D. Brewei Eddy and Dr. Barbour. They both spoke about the 
work being done in war camps. Mr. Eddy had just returned from France and 
Dr. Barbour had been at Spartanburg for nine weeks. Both speakers em- 
phasized the fact that war work of any kind begins first at home. 



For many years it has been the custom of Abbot Academy to give money 
and send Christmas presents to the Hindman School in the Kentucky moun- 
tains. But this year we have had the extra privilege of having Miss Stone, 
the founder ol the school, talk to us. The last time she addressed the students 
of Abbot Academy was twelve years ago. She told us of the founding of the 
Hindman School, the aims of the school, and some of the good it has already 
accomplished. She told a few amusing and a few pathetic stories of the 
children in the school and of their desire for learning. At the end of the talk 
she read a very clever and amusing play which one of the students had written. 

On November 24th, Major Robert N. Davy gave us the first of his series 
of talks. He told us about the recruiting work in Canada at the beginning of 
the war. Then he told several stories about the first experiences of the 
Canadians in the trenches. He had with him several kinds of gas helmets, 
which he put on to demonstrate the way in which gas can be kept from doing 
harm. He gave us an idea of military training which will help us greatly in 
military drill. 

Mr. Charles Rann Kennedy and his wife, who is well known as Edith 
Wynne Matheson, gave a very interesting reading in Davis Hall one Wednes- 
day evening. They read and interpreted Mr. Kennedy's play, The Rib of the 
Man. The play is a strong story ol modern life which could take place on 
any day of the European War. Mis. Kennedy, who has a charming personality, 
read the women's parts and Mr. Kennedy read the others. Although there 
were parts of the play which we could not understand, we were so absorbed 
in it that we entirely forgot ourselves in the reading. Befoie the reading of 
the play, Mrs. Kennedy recited Shelley's Ode to a Skylark. 

The next morning in chapel, Mr. Kennedy interpreted a few Bible passages. 
We received a new understanding of the stories which we have known all our 
lives and probably never would have thoroughly understood if it had not 
been for Mr. Kennedy's interpretation of them. 

During the day Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy read his latest play, The Army with 
Flags, to the Seniors and a few other upper classmen. The play, which is the 
fifth of a series of seven plays for seven players, is as yet unpublished. As on 
the preceding evening, Mrs. Kennedy read the women's parts, and Mr. 
Kennedy read the men's parts. They read with great dramatic ability and 
brought out the difference in the characters powerfully. 

On Thursday evening, January 17th, it was our good fortune to have with 
us Mr. W. W. Ellsworth, president of The Century Company of New York, 
who talked to us during a very short hour and a half of his forty years of 
publishing. The lecture was delightful. Great writers whom we have, for 
the most part, only read about, sprang to life before our eyes as we saw them 
through Mr. Ellsworth's graphic descriptions, in the intimacy of the editor's 
office, as they submitted their greatest works for publication. The stories he 
told us of them were many; we imagine he could have told us hundreds more, 
each as interesting as another. Certainly he could never tell us too many, we 
feel; for in humor and originality, and above all in their reality, they held the 
attention of every person in the audience. Of the interview with the German 



Emperor which has become so famous throughout the country from the fact 
that it was not allowed to be published, and of the minute details of its history, 
Mr. Ellsworth told us all he knew, which is as much as anyone could know, 
as you may imagine. Every one of us was sorry to have such an interesting 
lecture brought to a close, and exceedingly glad that she had had the oppor- 
tunity of hearing such an interesting man as Mr. Ellsworth. 


The first Abbot Academy Recital of the year was given by Mr. George 
Copeland, on the afternoon of December 8th, in Davis Hall. Mr. Copeland 
is a pianist of rare artistic judgment and executive attainments. His per- 
ception of rhythmical structure is perfect; the tone he produces from each key, 
singing and beautiful; his taste in the application of instrumental effects is 
flawless. The first half of the program was devoted to the old masters, Gluck, 
Scarlatti, Chopin, and Liszt. The rest of the program was composed of 
Debussy's best known pieces for the piano, and some charming Spanish 
Dances by Albeniz and Turina. Every one of the large audience was very 
enthusiastic about Mr. Copeland, and we hope we shall be fortunate enough 
to have him with us again next year. 

Quite a large party of the girls and the faculty went to Lawrence the evening 
of October 22nd to hear Kreisler play. It was a rare opportunity of hearing 
the great violinist and none of us will quickly forget his incomparable music. 

The second Lawrence concert was given the third of December by the 
great pianist Godowsky, and Arthur Middleton, tenor. It proved to be a 
very interesting and delightful program. 


Black cats and witches held sway at Abbot on Hallowe'en. The 
maids, under the direction of Miss McLean, surprised us by having the dining- 
room appropriately decorated for dinner. A strange, masked company as- 
sembled in Davis Hall soon after seven o'clock. The costumes were very 
original and caused great amusement. Between dances well-known gypsies 
foretold our future lives. 

A week before, a "poverty party", well-suited to these days of economy, 
was held in Davis Hall. 

Heralded by several days of mysterious preparation, the Corridor Stunts 
were presented in Davis Hall, Tuesday evening, November 20th. At eight 
o'clock all except the stage lights went out and we were held speechless by the 
thrilling picture of "Patricia's Predicament", cleverly staged by the girls of 
the second floor wing. The other all-star numbers followed in rapid succession. 

Carter House — - An Abbot Red Riding Hood. 

Second floor front — Abbot's Rivals. 

Fourth floor wing — Reveries of a Bachelor. 



Third floor wing — Hints from Paris. 
Fourth floor front — Violetta's Elopement. 
Sherman Cottage — John Brown's Body. 
Third floor front — The Spirit of '17. 

Five and ten-cent grab- bags were enthusiastically patronized. The 
profits, amounting to about twenty-five dollars, were a part of our contribution 
to the Hindman School. 

Tuesday evening, December 11th, two plays were given by the committee 
of the Abbot Patriotic League, for the benefit of the surgical dressings fund. 
The first play was entitled Three Dear Friends. 

Mr. Chisholm ... Miss King 

Eva ....... Clarissa Horton 

Milly ....... Louise Bacon 

Peggy Louise Stilwell 

Maid ........ Marion McPherson 

The cast of the second play, The Albany Depot, was as follows: 

Mrs. McIlheny Miss Chickering 

Mr. McIlheny .... Marion McPherson 

Mrs. Campbell . .... Clarissa Horton 

Willis Campbell ..... Katherine Coe 

Mrs. Roberts . . Louise Bacon 

Mr. Roberts Miss King 

Maggie ....... Louise Stilwell 

£)ortor Holl 

first quarter 

Margaret Speer 94 
Emmavail Luce, Julia Abbe 92 
Louise Colby, Martha Grace Miller, Kathreen Noyes 91 
Avalita Howe, Elisabeth Luce, Dorothy Lauder, Constance Ling, Faith 

Williams, Helen Wygant 90 
Margaret Morris, Mary Jepherson, Margaret Clark, Helen Walker, 

Dorothea Flagg, Elinor Sutton 89 
Julie Sherman, Elizabeth Sjostrom, Frances Moses, Dorothy Moxley, 

Frances Thompson 88 


Abbot's share in the Y. M. C. A. campaign, known among schools and 
colleges as the Friendship Fund, amounted to $1536. Other gifts from the 
school included the Lawrence Mission, the Hindman School, the Chinese Flood 
Refugees, Halifax relief woik, and the Surgical Dressings Fund. The usual 
Sunday evening offerings were taken for Home and Foreign Missions. 




The hockey game was played at Bradford this year on Wednesday, Novem- 
ber 7th. The whole school accompanied the team to Bradford to witness the 
contest, which proved to be a close and exciting one. Both teams played 
a remarkably fine game; but although we were in the lead during a large part 
of the game, a goal at the end gave the victory to Bradford. The final score 
was 3 to 2. The Seniors and the team were invited to a tea by the Bradford 
Seniors, and the team afterwards stayed to dinner. The team : 

M. Bushnell, l.f. 

M. McPherson (captain), c.f. 

A. Howe, r.f. 

J. Sherman, l.w. 

D. Fairfield, r.w. 

H. Vedder, r.f.b. 

Ethel Dixon, l.f.b. 

M. Kunkel, g. 

M. G. Miller, r.h.b. 

G. Cole, l.h.b. 

K. Hamblet, c.h.b. 
The tennis finals were played between Betty Wright and Mary Jepherson. 
The latter won the school championship in the singles. 

3tems of (general interest 

The trustees of Abbot Academy are expressing their patriotism in many 
and varied activities. 

Dr. Fitch spent the summer in France as one of a commission from Wash- 
ington to investigate the work of the Red Cross, inspecting hospitals. Since 
his return he has been lecturing widely through the East and Middle West, 
and preaching in the cantonments. 

In September, after two months in camp at Boxford, Mr. Stackpole went 
to France as chaplain, with the rank of lieutenant. He is with the 102nd 
Field Artillery, and has made himself much beloved. An Andover boy writing 
home calls him " the soldiei s' best friend ". 

Mr. Smith has been at work for several months in Washington in connection 
with the Council of National Defense and is now a member of the Supplies 
Committee, acting not only in an advisory capacity, but in the actual purchase 
of articles in the knowledge of which he is a specialist. 

Mr. Flagg was chairman, for the congressional district, of the cam- 
paign committee for the first and second issues of the Liberty Loan. He has 
been appointed an associate member of the Legal Advisory Board of this 
vicinity, overseeing and assisting selected men in the filling out of question- 

Dr. Cutler is one of the Home Guard and has had a son in the ambulance 
service in France since March, 


Mrs. Churchill is represented in France by her son, Marlborough, who has 
been advanced to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel and is at present on Major 
General March's staff as chief of aitillery operations. 

Of formei trustees, Mr. Lester Fuller is in Rome as financial commissioner 
of the Italian Red Cross Unit, and Mr. Arthur S. Johnson of Boston was on 
the executive committee for the gieat Red Triangle drive in November. 

This incomplete account will serve to show how large the service Abbot is 
rendeiing through her trustees. 

We are sorry to tell Miss Howey's friends of the death of her mother in 
Geneva a week after school opened in September. 

Owing to the increased enrolment this year, the Carter House on School 
Street is being used to accommodate ten girls and two teachers. Miss Marceau 
and Miss Parkhurst are in charge. 

Miss King is taking the dass in Parliamentary Law, which was conducted 
last year by Miss Elliott. All members of school organizations are required 
to attend the class, and also all class officers. The purpose is to make the 
girls more efficient in conducting a meeting. 

This year every girl has been allowed to choose for herself between gym- 
nastics and rhythmic dancing. A great many of the girls chose the dancing. 

Miss Elliott is living at home this winter and is taking graduate courses in 
Economics at Radcliffe College. Her address is 25 Fairview Street, Lowell. 

Miss Carson is teaching at the Washington Irving School in New York 
City, and is living with her sister at 31 Gramercy Park. 

Miss Sherman's address is 159 Sumner Avenue, Springfield. 

Mme. Romero is teaching at the National Cathedral School in Washington. 

The modern language department of the library has recently received a 
valuable addition of nearly 250 books, French and German classics, with some 
modern French works of fiction and drama. These were left to the school by 
Miss Merrill. In each book is inserted the following inscription: 

Abbot Academy Library from the Library of Maria Stockbridge Merrill 
Teacher of French in Abbot Academy 1878-1907 

Presented by Sarah Joy Merrill 
In fulfillment of her sister's wishes 
October, 1917 

Miss Susanna Ward Smith, Abbot 1857-1864, has given us a mahogany 
cabinet containing more than nine hundred photographs and the following 
books: Eight volumes of Society of French Aquarelists; ten volumes of Great 
Operas (illustrated); Works of Meissonier. She also gave to the school an 
easel in which to keep the "Works of Meissonier". 

Miss Charlotte W. Hardy, who graduated from Abbot in 1898, sent to the 
school one page of Journal of Humanity, published in Andover in 1832, and 
containing an advertisement of Abbot Academy. 

Mrs. S. G. Wood of Winchester, N. H. (Emma Chadbourne, Abbot 1876- 
80), has sent us an old photograph of Smith Hall and Abbot Hall. 



A picture of Mt. Shasta was given to the school in October, 1917, by Mrs. 
L. M. B. Reid (Lucinda Pierce, Abbot 1870-71). 

A copy of the Magdalene by Carlo Dolci was given us by Miss Gay in 
September, 1917. It was the property of Mrs. Chailes Carter and was pre- 
sented in memory of Miss Emma Taylor. 

Miss Runner came east in December to stay with her sister at New Canaan, 

Miss Edith Metcalf is at present in Paris, making surgical dressings for our 
own army under the American Red Cross. Her address is Care Morgan-Harjes 
Co., 31 Boul. Hausmann. 

For several years Mr. Ashton has been writing a History of the Salem 
Athenaeum, and this fall it was published. It is an interesting book, telling 
not only the life of the famous old library, but giving an idea of the intellectual 
life of Salem in the early part of the nineteenth century, and also the changes 
that have come over library methods in the hundred years of the Athenaeum's 

Hlumnae motes 

The meetings of the Boston Abbot Club have been very successful under 
the able leadership of Mrs. Lillian Wilcox Miller. In November, Miss Kath- 
leen Jones, t!889, gave an excellent talk on "The Literature of the War". 
The January meeting was called "Daughters' Day". A tiny violinist and 
a young and graceful dancer entertained the children and a good number of 
grown-ups. Miss Susan Chapin, 1888, read monologues by Louise Kair, 

The celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Club occurred on a 
very stormy day in December, and despite the small attendance, was worthy 
of the occasion. Mrs. Margaret Fowle Sears, fl881, read a carefully prepared 
paper on the founding and history of the Club, Miss Josephine Wilcox, |1881, 
recalled the McKeen Breakfast v/hich brought about the formation of the 
Club, and Miss Anne Means, 1861, gave some racy reminiscences of the early 
days of its existence. There was an interesting histoiical exhibit, including 
souvenirs of the McKeen Breakfast, photographs of prominent persons con- 
nected with it, and of the Academy buildings in 1892. As an appropriate 
patiiotic addition there were also shown autograph copies of "America" and 
"The Battle Hymn of the Republic", which their authors wrote for the Club, 
and which were presented to the academy. 

1841. Mrs. Hannah Phelps Gutterson, who with Mrs. Luthera Sheldon 
Wightman headed the list of alumnae, died in August. Her son, in speaking 
of her quiet, useful life, says: "What a vast amount of unrecorded, unheralded 
faithfulness and kindness there is in the world. I guess it is the life of God in 
the heait of mankind, and it keeps the world going." 

1853. Lucelia Wakefield's son, Henry Barrett Learned, of Washington, 
D. C, writes thus of her: "My mother died in St. Louis, Mo., August 11. On 
July 15, she had had a slight fall: it disturbed her and wonied us, her children. 
She had been totally deaf for about three years and quite blind for rather more 
than one year — great deprivations which, however, did not greatly disturb 
her splendid spirit and courageous nature. But the shock at her age — she 
would have been eighty three on November 17th — was too much. She 
slowly sank into a stupor and went the 'unaccompanied way' all unafraid. 
There may be a few people left here and there in New England who will 
remember her, or at any rate care to know of her going. She leaves a son and 
two daughters, and fourteen grandchildren." 

fl862. Alice Wakefield Emerson was not able to attend the reunion in 
June, but sent a pleasant message. Her daughter, Dr. Mary Alice Emerson, 
of Boston University, was the author of "The Spreading Light," a pageant 
presented at the Reformation Quadricentenary recently held in Tremont 



Temple, Boston. Dr. Emerson is called one of the leaders in religious pagean- 
try and drama, and is conducting a department treating of this subject in 
the Congregationalist. 

fl867. The fifty-year class had a splendid showing in June, five being 
present out of the eight remaining members. Mary Jackson Warren of 
Detroit responded for the class, and Emily Fellows Reed of Belmont spoke of 
the opportunities for women in the present crisis. The others of the class 
present were Mary Abbott Babbitt, Caroline M. Park of West Boxford, Mary 
Steele Rickey of Stoneham. Eliza Blossom Paine of Sharon and Florence 
Ladd Munger of Caldwell, N. J., were prevented at the last moment from 

1867. Dr. and Mrs. John C. Berry (Maria Gove) of Worcester are mem- 
bers of a deputation from the American Board of Missions to visit thedifferent 
mission stations in Japan, encouraging the workers in this difficult period and 
conferring with them in regard to the serious problems now before them. 
Dr. Berry was a leader in medical missions in Japan for twenty years and was 
so tactful in dealing with government officials that many of his plans for 
philanthropy and reform were recognized and approved. He was given a 
decoiation by the Emperor a few years ago. 

1869. Ida Mori ill McCurdy's son Robert is librarian at Camp Greene, 
Charlotte, N. C, and Dr. Sidney is in France with the Youngstown, Ohio, unit. 

|1870. The death of Miss Minnie Merriam takes a loyal and devoted 
worker from the ranks of the alumnae. At the time of her death she was a 
director of the Boston Abbot Club, had been at one time its treasurer, and had 
served the Club and the Alumnae Association in various helpful ways for many 
years. Miss Anne Means, in her appreciative tiibute, read at the Club meet- 
ing of December 1st, spoke especially of Miss Merriam's efficient, determined 
work as chairman of the Alumnae Association Committee for raising money 
for the McKeen Memorial Building, of which committee she was also a mem- 
ber. It was a long, hard task and because of Miss Merriam's modesty, few 
knew how much credit was due her when her cherished plan became at last a 
reality. Her interested and kindly face and her faithful help will be greatly 
missed in the Abbot Club. 

fl872. Many friends widely separated will learn with sorrow of the death, 
on Christmas Day, of Mr. Harrison Parker, husband of Fanny Fletcher, after 
long months of failing health. His strong yet gentle character will be a beauti- 
ful memory to his family. Beside the daughters, Constance (Mrs. Chipman), 
fl906, Esther, fl908, and Eugenia, 11916, there are two sons, Rev. Asa 
Merrick, pastor of the Mystic Side Church in Everett, and Ensign Gordon, 
now stationed at the Charlestown Navy Yard. 

|1873. Miss Ellen F. Chase, who died in July, was a good friend of the 
school, responding generously and gladly to its various appeals. She used to 
enjoy coming from Haverhill to recitals and other school and alumnae exer- 
cises, especially when she could arrange to meet her dear friend, Miss Caroline 



Holmes, fl871; but after her death she found such visits too full of memories. 
Ill health kept her from active work on alumnae committees but she led a 
beautiful, devoted life at home. 

fl875. Louise Karr has lately published a book of amusing monologues, 
entitled Trouble. Trouble was a dog! 

1876. The two sons of Ellen Wilbur Burgess are both in the service of 
their country. Robert is first lieutenant in the Statistical Division of the 
Ordnance Department in Washington. His younger brother, W. Randolph 
Burgess, has a position with the War Industries Board of the Council of 
National Defense. In the interest of war supplies he was sent abroad as a 
member of the American War Mission under Colonel House. In May, 1917, 
he married Miss Mary Ayres, daughter of Rev. Milan C. Ayres. 

The address of Mrs. Burgess has been changed to 337 Belmont Avenue, 
Newark, New Jersey. 

fl877. A note from Ellen Emerson Cary says: "Every time the call for a 
reunion comes I always feel like sending a special note of thanks, for though 
I can never attend it is pleasant to be remembered. There are four of us 
Abbot girls here in Japan now, and in May we were all together. If all goes 
well I hope to be in America next year and shall hope to visit Andover again. 
Forty years do not dampen my love for the place." The four above mentioned 
sent a card of greeting to the Alumnae Association, signed by Mrs. Cary, 
Belle Wilson Pettee, 1874, Jennie Pearson Stanford, 1876, and Mabel Bosher 
Scudder, 1894. 

fl877. Josephine Richards Gile's three sons are in the three branches of 
the service, one in the army, one in the navy and one in aviation. 

fl879. Helen Page Downe is in New York this winter, devoting herself 
to Red Cross work with all her might. Her two sons are in France. One of 
them has been "sergeant de ville", in charge of billeting soldiers. 

fl882. It is a pleasure to record that Effie Dresser Wilde was a pupil of 
Miss Merrill in her first and only teaching before she came to Abbot in 1878 
to begin that long and noble service of which all who knew her are so proud. 
This was in Greely Institute, Cumberland Center, Me. 

fl882. The secretary of the class, Alice Parker Porter, in a report prepared 
for the Alumnae meeting in June, says: "There are ten children — only two 
girls but those two have graduated at Abbot." These are Maria and Dorothy 
Pillsbury, daughters of Annie Watts Pillsbury. One boy, Roger Conant 
Wilde, son of Effie Dresser, finished his course at Phillips Academy last June. 
1882 has never missed its class letter, and at the end of thirty-five years still 
continues to feel that " there never will be another like the class of '82." 

fl882. Marion Locke Morrison's husband, who has been State Super- 
intendent of Schools for New Hampshire for some years, has been called to 
a similar position in Connecticut, with headquarters at Middletown. 

1886. Rev. Frank R. Shipman, husband of May Ripley, was chairman 
of the committee in charge of the recent energetic diive for Red Cross members 
in Andover, which resulted in over 2300 members, an excellent showing for 



the size of the town. Mr. Shipman has resigned his position as professor in 
Atlanta Theological Seminaiy. 

fl887. Jean JiUson is in this country on furlough after hei strenuous service 
in Constantinople administering relief and organizing Red Cioss work in 
connection with the hospitals. She was one of the speakers at the Jubilee 
meetings of the Woman's Board of Foreign Missions held in Boston in 

1887. One of the pleasant features of the twenty-fifth anniversary meeting 
of the Boston Abbot Club was the presentation of a silver-mounted fountain 
pen to Miss Ethel N. Shumway, treasurer of the Club for the past fourteen 
years. During this time presidents and other officers have come and gone, 
and her business-like, capable service year after year has done much to give 
continuity to the club life. It is hoped that her good work w ill rival in length 
Miss Park's service for the Alumnae Association. 

1892. Evelyn Reed Ahearn, in the absence of her husband in the medical 
service, is spending the winter, with her two little sons, in this country, having 
with much difficulty obtained a passport to leave England. In November she 
gave an interesting talk on her war experiences to the Andover Mothers' Club, 
which she was instrumental in founding when she was kindergarten teachei 
in Andover. 

1892. The death of Mabel Kittredge Dunn brings a great loss to a wide 
circle of friends whom she made in Lock Haven, where she had closely identified 
herself with church and civic work. Since the inauguration of the Civic Club 
of Lock Haven she had been an active and forceful member. To her en- 
thusiasm and energy the playground movement, with its fai -reaching lesults, 
was almost entirely due. 

fl894. Mabel E. Bosher (Mrs. Doremus Scudder) writes enthusiastically 
of her 83^ pound daughter, who she says is to fit for college at Abbot. Her 
grandmother was Fanny Lewis, 1836. Mrs. Scudder's address is 23 Kami- 
tomizaka, Koisliekawa, Tokyo. 

1896. Anne Hincks spoke at Smith College in November on her work 
with women and giils as connected with the Bethesda Society, 

fl897. Edith Poor Brennan's husband has been made vice-president of 
the First National Bank of Boston. 

tl898. Mrs. Donald McFayden (Edith Tyer) with her little daughter 
Mary made a long visit this fall with Mrs. McFayden's mother, Mrs. Horace 
Tyer, of Andover. 

1898. Marion Keese is executive secretary of the Associated Charities in 
Waterville, Me. This is her second year of work there. 

1898. Houghton Mifflin Company published last spring a history of 
Phillips Academy, An Old New England School, written by Dr. Claude M. 
Fuess (husband of Elizabeth Cushing Goodhue). 

fl900. Rose Anne Day Keep and her husband are now joint principals of 
Miss Porter's School in Farmington, Conn. They are greatly missed in 



1901. Frieda Billings Cushman is president of the Fortnightly Club of 
Sharon, She has recently resigned the important position of secretary and 
treasurer of the New England Associate Alliance of the Unitarian Church, 
which she had held for two years. 

fl902. Mercer Mason Kemper is living this winter near Ayer, for her 
husband, Lieutenant-Colcnel James Brown Kemper, is in charge cf the Depot 
Brigade at Camp Devens. 

1902. Rose I. Greeley is taking a three years course in Landscape Archi- 
tecture in Cambridge. This is her second year. She is living at 74 Bucking- 
ham Street. 

fl904. Rev. Roger F. Etz, husband of Verta Smith, has been called from 
the White Memorial Church in Concord. N. H., to the Church of the Redeemer 
in Hartford, Conn. 

fl905. Katharine Woods is still living in New York where she is very busy 
and happy reviewing books and writing articles for the weekly magazine of the 
New York Times. Her address is 53 Washington Squaie. 

fl905. Frances Tyer Crawford is living in Evanston this year, while Mr. 
Crawford studies for a doctorate in Noithwestern University. Their address 
is 2039 Sherman Avenue. 

1905. Cornelia Williams is at the Walter Reed Training Hospital in 
Washington and expects to be with the first unit which goes to France to 
teach wounded soldiers. 

fl906. Constance Parker Chipman has much sympathy in the death of a 
baby son, Harrison Reeve, and of her father, while her husband was absent 
in France engaged in Y. M. C. A. work for the soldiers. Mr. Chipman re- 
turned to this country in January and will have headquarters in New York 
for the present. 

fl906. Sarah Hincks is teaching at Mount Holyoke College. She has been 
elected an honorary member of the freshman class. 

1906. Elizabeth Deeble sailed in October for France, where she will do 
work in surgical dre^sin^s for the next six months. Her wedding is postponed 
for the present. She writes: "Manied aviators and Red Cross workers are 
not wanted, and we talked it over and concluded that we both had duties to 
perform, as we were both unincumbered, and could make ourselves useful." 

fl907. After six month's furlough, Ethel Arens Tynge and her husband 
have returned to their missionary work in Changsha, China. 

|1907. Mabel Rhodes Manter's address is 67 North Adams Street, 
Manchester, N. H. 

1909. Persis C. Mclntire is doing library work in Sacramento, Cal. 

fl910. Louise Tuttle Abbott spent six weeks of the summer at Plattsburg, 
N. Y., while her husband was in training with the Reserve Officers Training 

fl910. Lydia Trask has been promoted to the position of assistant to the 
Purchasing Agent of the United Shoe Machinery Company of Boston. 
She took a secretarial course at Bryant and Stratton after graduating from 


tl910. Grace Kellogg studied last year at the Leland Powers School of 
the Spoken Woid in Boston. 

1911. Helen Vail is taking her last year at the Froebel League Kinder- 
gaiten Training School in New York. 

1912. Emily A. Prue has the position of director of physical education at 
the Y. W. C. A. of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 

f 1913. Ethel Rand was graduted from Wellesley College last June. 

fl913. Edith Wade took examinations and entered Smith this fall and is 
doing excellent work. 

f!913. Esther E. Pickels, who graduated from Mount Holyoke College 
in June, is now assisting in the Chemistry Department there. 

fl913. Louise Coe was graduated last June from the University of 

fl913. Marion Martin Teeson's present address is 15 Maple Street, 
Milford, Connecticut. Her husband is building balloons for the government 
at Fort Trumbull. 

f 1914. Lucretia Lowe has been elected president of the Radcliffe Spanish 
Club, and is in the Radcliffe Choral Society. She took a prominent part in 
the opera Iolanthe. Another member cf the cast was Elsie Gleason, who 
has been elected secretary of her class (1918). 

fl914. Helen Hanscom is enjoying thoroughly her position as kinder- 
garten teacher in a private school in Woodmere, Long Island. 

fl914. Hildegarde Gutterson and Marjcrie Freeman, t!916, are taking the 
nurses' training course in the Presbyterian Hospital in New York. 

fl914. Frances Dowd is in her junior year at Teachers' College, New York 
City, where she is studying to be supervisor of music. Her address is Whittier 
Hall, 1230 Amsterdam Avenue. 

|1915. Mildied Akerley was one of the thirteen girl students to receive a 
diploma in October from the Forsyth Dental Infirmary. 

fl915. Elizabeth Allen is teaching physical training in the Cathedral 
Schcol of St. Mary in Garden City, New York. 

1915. Mary Genevieve Toye has graduated this year from the Bridgewater 
Normal School. 

fl916. Sylvia Gutterson is assisting at the Boys' Reading Clubs, 50 
Tileston Street, North End, Boston. 

|1916. Dorothy Dann is working at the Watch Case Company in Mans- 
field, and Eleanor Black is at the Ohio Brass Company. 

fl916. Katharine Odell is studying at Miss Niel's School of Kindergarten 
Training in Boston. 

fl916. Elizabeth Wood is president of the sophomore class at Mount 
Holyoke, this year. 

fl916. Esther Kilton is studying at the Cambridge School of Archi- 
tectural and Landscape Design. Her address is 6 Storey Street, Cambridge. 

1916. Jane Patteson is a Freshman at Smith College this year. 



fl917. Elizabeth Bacon is studying typewriting and shorthand in Albany 
this winter. She made a two weeks' visit this fall in the East, making her 
headquarters with Mary Church. 

fl917. Esther Hungerford is living at home and helping her father in his 

fl917. Gertrude Goss is studying this winter at the Boston School of 
Physical Education. Margaret Mitchell and Irene Solle are studying at the 
same school. 

J 1917. Catharine Yeakle is taking the two years' secretarial course at the 
Drexel Institute in Philadelphia. 

fl917. Ruth Jackson and Cornelia Sargent are taking the seci eta rial 
course at the Pierce Shorthand School in Boston. Miriam Huntington and 
Marion Parshley are also studying there. 

fl917. Hilda Temple is at the Skidmore School of Fine Arts at Saratoga 
Springs, New York. 

fl917. Bernice Boutwell is taking a course in short-story writing at Boston 

|1917. Dorothy Baxter is taking a course at a business college and hopes 
to get a position in February. She has been doing some volunteer Red Cross 
work in stenography. 

fl917. Lucy Atwood is assistant to the supervisor of the Maine Society 
for the Protection of Children. 

fl917. Harriet Balfe is teaching in the grade schools at Newburgh. 

|1917. Mary Church has been taking courses in short-story writing and 
French at Miss Winsor's School in Boston, but since January she has been 
studying at Mrs. Noyes's School of Expression in Boston. 

fl917. Of last year's senior class four are at Smith: Elizabeth Graves, 
Harriet Murdock, Marjorie Smithwick and Antoinette Stone. Janet Davis 
and Edith Marsden are at Mount Holyoke, Sally Humason is at Vassar, and 
Carita Bigelow is at Wellesley. Dorothy Newton is at Wheaton College in 
Norton, and Rachel Olmstead at the Sargent School in Cambridge. Carita 
has been elected treasurer of her class. 

fl917. Miriam Bacon is taking a course in Economics at the Boston School 
of Domestic Science. 

fl917. Marguerite Dunaway is taking a secretarial course at a business 
college in Denver, Colorado. Her address is 292 South Lincoln Street. 

fl9l7. Frances Gere is studying art with Miss Pooke at Abbot Academy. 
1917. Tsing Lien Li is studying at the University of Michigan at Ann 
Arbor. Her address is 509 Cheever Court, Ann Arbor, Michigan. Katherine 
Chen is at the Ohio Wesleyan in Delaware, Ohio, and is living at Monnett Hall. 

1917. Sophia Chrysakis is taking the nurses' training course at the New 
England Baptist Hospital in Boston. 

1917. Lidwine Curran has gone to the Merrymount School at Tanytown 
this winter, Mary Shipman is at the House in the Pines at Norton, and Emily 
Thompson is at Miss Master's School at Dobbs Ferry. 



1917. Three of last year's Abbot girls are studying art in Boston this 
winter. Winifred LeBoutillier is at the Art Museum School, Gwendolen 
Brooks is at the School of Fine Arts, Crafts, and Decorative Design, and 
May Bartlett is at the New School of Art in the Garden Building on Boylston 

The Keeper of Records finds it stimulating to note in reading the daily 
papers how many of those named for able work in some line of patriotic service 
are connected more or less closely with Abbot Academy. Besides the alumnae 
themselves there are husbands, sons, brothers, trustees, former employees, — 
all doing their share. These names are being placed on the War Service 
Record. Alumnae may greatly help in this matter by reporting to Miss 
Carpenter any such service, in order that the list may be complete enough to 
be of some value in the days to come. 

A supplement to the General Catalogue of the Academy has recently been 
issued. This includes the names of faculty and students for last year and 
this year, with home addresses. Copies at ten cents each may be obtained 
from Miss Jane B. Carpenter, 26 Morton Street, Andover. 


Alice Fleek Miller, 1891, Alice Hinkley Black, f 1891, Olga Erickson 
Tucker, fl913, Gertrude Goss, |1917, Maria Pillsbury Taylor, 11907, Dorothy 
Pillsbury, fl916, Ruth Newcomb, 11910, Florence MacCreadie, |1909. Alice 
Littlefield, 11917, Frances Gere, fl917, Elizabeth Deeble, 1906, Lucy Atwood, 
fl917, Miriam Bacon, 11917, Elizabeth Bacon, 11917, Mary Church, 11917, 
Sylvia Gutterson, fl916, Esther Kilton, fl916, Cornelia Sargent, fl917, May 
Bartlett, 1917, Gwendolen Brooks, 1917, Phyllis Brooks, 11915, Winifred 
LeBoutillier, 1917, Lydia Trask, 11910, Ursula Kimball, 1914, Katherine 
Tougas, 1917, Phyllis Brown, 1917, Martha Swalm, 1917, Mercer Mason 
Kemper, fl902, Clara Thomson Blackford, 11901, Ruth Ottman, fl916, Grace 
Carleton Dryden, fl886, Jeannie Porter Adams, 1885, Ruth Adams Downer, 
11906, Cornelia Newcomb, fl917, Ruth Draper, fl912, Margaret Copeland, 
tl911, June Perry, 1916, Dorothy Small, 11917, Esther Hungerford, fl917, 
Hattie Tufts Loring, 1868, Harriet Murdock, fl917, Margaret Mitchell, 1917, 
Laura Marland, 11913, Katharine Selden, tl914, Marion Selden, |1916, 
Edith Wade, fl913, Elisabeth Bartlett, 11914, Vera Allen, fl916, Agnes 
Grant, fl916, Katharine Odell, 11916, Sue Hertz Howard, 1890, Edith Mars- 
den, fl917, Edith Tyer McFayden, fl898, Miss Tryon, Miss Elliott, Jane 
Newton Sheldon, fl913. 


Miss Louise A. Whiting to Mr. Edwin E. Hebb of Roslindale, at 
present with the Interstate Commerce Commission at Washington. 
|1895. Helen Jackson to Mr. William Phoenix of California. 



1909. Helen Holmes Mills to Mr. Charies Edwaid Farnsworth of Win- 

1910. Ethel Parkin Swain to Mr. Robert James Smith. 

tl911. Marv Helena Hall to Lieutenant Edwin N. Levris of New York 

fl911. Corinne Willard to Lieutenant Harry Lane Dresser, Univeisit\ of 
Michigan 1907, at present in Camp Zachary Taylor, Louisville, Kentucky. 

fl912. Frances Lincoln to Mr. Donald Swanton Sewall of Bath, Maine. 

11013. Margaiet Emily Day to Mr. Harold E. Danforth. 

fl914. Marion Clark to Lieutenant Joseph Myeiscough, at present in- 
structor in the Aviation Corps Department at the Massachusetts Institute of 

fl914. Hildegarde Gutterson to Dr. Judson Smith, Harvard 1905, Harvard 
Medical School 1910, now a member of the Medical Enlisted Reserve Corps. 
fl914. Helen Darlington Burk to Mr. T. Lawrence Moore. 

1914. Louise Murray to Mr. Dennett Drew Rodliff. 

1 19 15. Sarah W. Cushing to Mr. Arthur Eugene Sharp of Chicago, Shef- 
field Scientific School, 1916. 

fl915. Muriel Baker to Lieutenant Clifford Wood, Jr., O. R. C. 

1 19 15. Marion Barnard to Mr. Marius Lincoln Mohcr, Jr., of Newton, in 
the Mechanical Repair Department at Washington. 

1915. Dorothy Gilbert to Mr. Lyman H. Bellows. 

1915. Katheiine Adams to Mr. Melville Price of East Lyme. 
|1916. Eleanor Peaice Black to Mr. George L. Draffan. 
fl916. Helene Charlotte Hardy to Mr. Frank Tucker Bobst. 
fl917. Esther K. Davi«? to Mr. Andrew Smith of Bridgeport, Conn., at 
present in the aviation service at Ithaca, New York. 


Herrick — Morgan. In Castleton, New York, April, 1917, Bertha Louise 
Morgan to Mr. Herbert E. Herrick. 

j 1897 . Stevens — Paine. — In Scarsdale, New York, June 30, 1917, Marion 
Duncan Paine to Doctor Charles Wadhams Stevens. 

fl900. Taylor — Gutterson. — In Winchester, July 24, 1917, Constance 
Gutterson to Mr. Horace Tayloi of BrookHne. At home, 93 Binney Street, 

fl908. Cheney — Cole. — At Stamford, Conn., December 12, 1917, Marion 
Cole to Mr. James Burleigh Cheney of New York City. 

fl909. Brown — Twiss. — In Lawrence, December 1, 1917, Beatrice 
Margaiet Twiss to Mr. George Gibson Brown. At home, 81 Sunray Street, 

|1911. Creighton — Copeland. — In Thomaston, Maine, September 29, 
1917, Helen Mills Copeland to Mr. James Alexander Creighton. At home, 
420 Spruce Street, Steelton, Pennsylvania. 



tl913. Tucker— Erickson.— In Brookline, June 2, 1917, Olga Marie 
Erickson to Mr. Paul Rogeis Tucker. At home, 229 Harvard Street, Brook- 

fl913. Teeson — Martin. — In Lowell, June 30, 1917, Maiion Mattin to 
Mr. Erceil Arthur Teeson. 

fl913. Patterson — Baush. — In Springfield, August 2, 1917, Enid Louise 
Baush to Mr. Ralph Melbourne Patterson. 

|1913. Flint — Amsden. — In Windsor, Vermont, October 9, 1917, Char- 
lotte Mary Amsden to Mr. John Wyman Flint, Jr. 

1913. Braintn — Thompson. — In Fall River, June 14, 1917, Augusta 
Louise Thompson to Mr. Howard Brainin. 

1913. Batchelder — Pitman. — In Andover, May 31, 1917. Ernestine 
Pitman to Mr. K. Roland Batcheller cf Lawrence. 

1913. Billtngs— Jenkins — In Portland, Maine, October 10, 1917, Ruth 
Dingley Jenkins to Mr. Earle Adams Billings, Lieutenant United States Army. 

|1914. Hartley — Parks. — In Northfield, June 19, 1917, Esther Margaret 
Parks to Mr. Paul H. Hartley. At home, Trinity Court, Dartmouth Street, 

1915. Kempton — Jackson. — In Newtonville, November 30, 1917, 
Pauline Irma Jackson to Ensign Kenneth Payson Kempton At home, 164 
Strathmore Road, Brighton. 

fl916. Rodriquez — Sword.— In Huntington, Long Island, June 7, 1917, 
Lillian Sword to Mr. Carlos C. Rodriquez. Address. 409 Edgecomb Avenue. 
New York City. 



fl894. In Tokyo, Japan, November 9, 1917, a daughter, Katharine, to 
Rev. and Mrs. Doremus Scudder (Mabel E. Bosher). 

fl897. In Andover, October 28, 1917, a son, Philip Hinkley, to Mr. and 
Mrs. Frank L. Quinby (Frances Hinkley). 

1901. In Selma, Alabama, August 1. 1917, a daughter, Saiah, to Mr. and 
Mrs. Prescott Mori ill Greene (Elizabeth Rogeis Bacon). 

tl902. In Deny, New Hampshiie, January 12, 1917, a son, Prescott 
Chase, to Di. and Mrs. Charles E. Newell (Harriet L. Chase). 

1903. In Boston, November, 1917, a daughter to Dr. and Mrs. Joseph H. 
Pratt (Rosamond Thomson). 

|1904. In Chicago, August 28, 1917, a son, John Nelson, Jr., to Mr. and 
Mis. John Nelson McCabe (Laura Parker Eddy). 

fl905. In East Orange, New Jersey, a son to Mr. and Mrs. Henry B. 
Arundale (Fannie Joanna Eiving). 

1906. In Hanover, New Hampshire, September, 1917, a daughter, Caro- 
line, to Mr. and Mrs. Fiancis J. A. Neef (Margaret Lucy Sherman). 

fl911. In Upper Montclair, New Jersey, August 12, 1917, a son to Mr. 
and Mrs. Donald Lyman (Borghild HofT). 



fl912. In September, a daughter, Barbara, to Mr. and Mrs. Harold 
Brewster Bretz (Helen Cram). 

1913. In Lynn, July 20, 1917, a son, Seth Carver, to Mr. and Mrs. Seth 
Whittemore Eames (Marguerite Carver Huntt). 

|1915. In Belfast, Maine, December 5, 1917, a daughter, Sarah Elizabeth, 
to Mr. and Mrs. Frederick S. Blodgett (Jessie Marie Nye). 


In Andover, December 13, 1917, Florence W. Gay, teacher at Abbot Acad- 
emy from 1899 tc 1901. 

1841. In Andover, August 25, 1917, Hannah H. Phelps, wife of the late 
George Gutteison. 

1846. In Methuen, April 14, 1917, Miriam Hill, wife of the late Joseph 

1847. In Maiden, June 26, 1917, Emily Gray, wife of the late James 
Freeman. She was for a time a member of the School Board of Maiden before 
it became a city. 

1848. In Montclair, New Jersey, January 15, 1917, Elsyette Frye. wife 
of the late Rev. Edward C. Miles. 

1851. In Lowell, December 29, 1916, Maria Parker, wife of Joel M. 

1852. In St. Louis, Mo.. August 11, 1917, Lucelia Wakefield, wife of the 
late Rev. John C. Learned. 

1854. In Methuen, December 29, 1917, Harriet E. Hayward, formerly 
of Andover. 

1856. In Reading, June 28, 1917, Lucy Caroline Baker, wife of the late 
Alonzo P. Berry. 

1856. In Concord, October 28, 1917, Emily A. Stearns, wife of the late 
George A. Fuller. 

1858. In Lexington, May 25, 1917, Hannah E. Burn. 

1860. In Lexington, November 26, 1917, Sarah S. Miles, wife of the late 
John A. Sweetsei . 

1862. In Wakefield, January 9, 1918, Mary J. Eaton, wife of the late 
Buchanan Brainard Burbank. 

fl863. In Elizabeth, N. J., Mina W. Chase, wife of Captain William C. 
De Hart. 

1864. In Bryn Mawr, Pa., June 9, 1917, Charlotte Morton, wife of the 
late Frank A. Mullany. 

1868. In Wilmington, Decembei 20, 1917, Julia A. Carter. 

1868. In Boston, November 29, 1917, Ellen A. Frost, wife of the late 
Rufus Frost Greeley. 

1868. In Jamaica Plain, July 10, 1917, Katherine Rogers Wendell. 

1869. In June, 1917, Anna H. Meacom, wife of the late Horace Meacom. 
fl870. In Newton Highlands, November 1, 1917, Mary Frances Merriam. 
tl873. In Haverhill, July 2, 1917, Ellen F. Chase. 



fl875. In Indian Orchard, June 29, 1917, Elizabeth P. Aiken, wife of 
Albert M. Gleason. 

1877. In Maiden, October 25, 1917, Elizabeth E. Holt, formerly of 

1881. In Newton, August 17, Captain Morton E. Cobb, husband of Mary 
Smith Byers. 

fl889. By accident, between New Haven and Madison, Connecticut, 
August 13, 1917, Grace Wanning Day (Mrs. Julius Gilbert Day). 

1892. In Lock Haven, Pa., January 9, 1918, Mabel L. Kittredge. wife of 
Charles Dunn. 

fl903. In Concord, N. H., September 2, 1917, Elizabeth W. Gilbert, wife 
of Rev. J. Harold Dale of Billerica. 

1904. In Taunton, January 19, 1918, Mary Shute Lincoln, wife of 
Leon E. Lincoln. 

1905. In Woburn, June 20, 1917, Marion Kimball. 

1912. In Lawrence, September 18, 1917, Josephine C. Flynn, after a long 
illness following an automobile accident in November, 1916. 

fl913. In East Jaffrey, N. H., November 13, 1917, Mary S. Peters of 

Miss Florence W. Gay, teacher of English at Abbot from 1899 to 1901, and 
long a friendly neighbor, died on December 13th, after several weeks of illness. 
A friend gives this appreciation of her quiet, devoted life: "She had a mind of 
more than ordinary ability, and her quiet wit gave a charm to her conversation 
with intimates, like wild flowers growing in deep woods. She was touched by 
beautiful things, and her fine perception of the meaning of music or art or 
literature would have surprised the critics. * * * * Her achievements lay 
in quiet paths. Her duty as she saw it she did unfalteringly, until her whole 
strength was given. Her modest spirit claimed no recognition, and it is with 
a sense of regret at her loss, and appreciation of merit that never sought 
praise, that these words are written." 

Just a week before Mary's sudden illness and death, I was passing through 
Jaffrey, New Hampshire, where she was helping to organize the office of a 
new manufacturing plant — her first job — and I stopped in to see her. She 
spoke of her work: it was hard, but if she were making good, she didn't mind 
that. It was only later that I learned that she was doing far, far bettei than 
she knew. From litt e things she said, I realized that she was meeting the 
difficult task of being away from home in just the right way, making friends 
and responding to hospitality and, though she did not know it, she was having 
her reward in her loss of shyness, and the unconscious charm of a bright, fresh 
outlook on life. This year was to be one stage merely — a year of drilling in 
irksome routine — and Mary looked very happily on beyond to the future. 
Being a secretary as she conceived it, meant not only technical skill but 
demanded transparent honesty, utter devotion to her employer's interests, 
discretion, and a passion for work which was boundless. None who knew her 
doubts that these qualities of mind and heart burned in her slender body. I 
can't speak of what her loss is to those who knew and loved her. But it seems 
to me that it is right that her name should be known to the wide circle of 
Abbot graduates. 

M. B. S. 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, B.S., Principal 

Psychology, Ethics, Theism, Christian Evidences 
KATHERINE R. KELSEY, Assistant Principal 




History and English 

Literature and History of Art 





History and Biology. Librarian 







Spanish and Latin 

Assistant in Science 

Physical Education 

Household Science 

Vocal Expression 

* On leave of absence, 1917.1918. 




Rhythmic Expression 

Chorus Music, Piano, Organ and Harmony, History of Music 

Vocal Music 




Assistant to Mr. Ashton 

Drawing and Painting 


Secretary to the Principal 

Supervisor of Day Scholars' Room 

In charge of Draper Hall 

Resident Nurse 

Keeper of Alumnae Records 



Mrs. CHARLES RANN KENNEDY (Edith Wynne Matheson, 








Rev. C. W. HENRY 




School Organizations 

A. C. A. 


Clarissa Horton 
Martha Grace Miller 
Cora Erickson 
Dorothy Stalker 

Representative Committee of Student Council 

Louise Stilwell Marion McPherson 

Ruth Eaton Clarissa Horton 

Martha Grace Miller Louise Bacon- 

Louise Robinson Elisabeth Luce 

Fidelio Society 

Secretary and Treasurer 

Irene Atwood 
Dorothy Williams 
Ruth Farrington 


Katherine Pinckney Julie Sherman 

Helen French Mildred Frost 

Elizabeth Doolin Kathreen Noyes 

Louise Stilwell Elisabeth Luce 

Louise Bacon Virginia Vincent 

AtHletic Association 


Marion McPherson 
Katherine Hamblet 
Helen Vedder 
Ruth Eaton 

Glee Club 

Leader . . . . . . . . Dorothea Clark 

Treasurer ....... Esther Milliken 


Hochey Team 

Marion McPherson 
Katherine Hamblet 

Class Organizations 

Senior '18 

President Louise Bacon 

Vice-President Ruth Eaton 

Secretary Dorothea Clark 

Treasurer Natalie Weed 

Class Motto: "Ad astra per aspera." 
Class Flower: Yellow Rose Class Colors: Yellow and White 

Senior Middle, *19 

President . . Katherine Coe 

Vice-President Ruth Hathaway 

Secretary Helen Wygant 

Treasurer Gretchen Brown 

Class Motto: "Duty, Service, and Sacrifice" 
Class Flower: Ros. Class Colors: Rose and Silver 

Junior Middle, 20 

President Helen Vedder 

Vice-President Catherine Greenough 

Secretary Julia Abbe 

Treasurer Helen Donald 

Class Flower: Lily of the Valley 


Juniors, '21 

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M. R. M., '18 


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3une, 1918 











France M 

Mary Lyon Douglas MacFarland, 1877 
Pre- War and After 4 

Elizabeth Holmes, 1918 
The Cross 6 

Catherine R. McReynolds, 1918 
John Oxenham's Message 7 

Margaret Bailey Speer, 1918 
Why! M 

Julie Sherman, 1918 
For France 10 

Catherine R. McReynolds, 1918 
The Cross- Roads 15 

Louise Colby, 1918 

The Pirates' Den 16 

Margaret Langcnbacher, 1919 
His Girl 18 

Elizabeth Armstrong, 1919 
The Road 19 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 
Jim Ketson, Manager 20 

Marion Nichols, 1919 
Loneliness 23 

Elizabeth Gray, 1918 
No Love Like the Old Love 24 

Harriet B. Sanford, 1919 

In Lighter Vein 26 

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Vol. XLIV JUNE, 1918 No. 2 


There is a word that lights my spirit's fire, 

That opens wide the doorway of my heart. 
Floods the sluices of my tears to overflow; 

A word now of my very core a part! 
Yet, strangely once did I misjudge 

The inner meaning of that brilliant word, 
Its sacred content could not sense; 

Nor ever its exulting music heard. 

Today, for knightly deeds of sacrifice 

I see it set men's souls aflame 
And lift them up, a beacon high, 

Earth's wandering ideals to reclaim. 
Word like a sun! To relume Thought 

And all its nobler values more enhance: 
Shall then the lips that lightly spoke 

Dare name it now. the brave word, France; 

Mary Lyon Douglas Macfarland, 1877 

£>n--TDax anb after 

"Pre-war! Why, when was that?" you say, and then you 
smile a little as you realize that the war has so engaged your 
interests that you've forgotten there ever was a day when the war 
was not. Yes, the old pre-war days have faded into the past, 
disappeared just as the night, fleeing before the dawn of a new 
day. When the war is ended will these old days be renewed 
among us? Shall we slip back into our old places, resume old 
occupations, revive our worn-out fads — just go on as before? 
Can we? Will the glorious conflict for justice and humanity 
be found to have made no impression upon us at all, when victory 
is won and peace restored ? 

It is hard to look back to those dim days of pre-war. We 
have to look back across such a vast expanse of blood -soaked 
battlefields, over the ruins of that beautiful part of France which 
still lies within the enemy's lines. The souls of hundreds of 
thousands of those who have died for us urge us on to victory — 
we have no time to look back. The carefree days of pre-war 
seem strange and unreal to us now in these times of anxiety — 
we can hardly realize the time when we did not hastily scan the 
morning papers and cry with a sigh of relief and an odd little 
tug at the heart, "They're holding! Thank God, the line holds!" 

Five years ago we did not dream that our country would soon 
be merged in the greatest war in the history of the world. Ameri- 
cans are generally rather carefree and optimistic — rumors of 
war were incredible. Even when the bolt fell from the blue and 
the Great Powers clashed in battle, when our brave Canadian 
neighbors crossed the sea to fight "For King and Country", 
when news of the violation of Belgium reached our ears, when 
the whole world was in an uproar — even then we did not realize 
it all — we couldn't. We hadn't had the training, or the environ- 
ment, or the associations which other nations had, to be able to 
realize the seriousness of the situation. The war scarcely touched 
us — we only became the more wealthy, did some relief work, 
and went our usual paths of pleasure and daily labor, hoping the 
war would soon be ended. It is only natural for Americans to 
look on the bright side rather than on the dark side of life. 



But the time has told. The old days are gone forever, and 
now — oar men are fighting side by side with the Allies in the 
common cause of democracy. Three cheers for our boys at the 
Front ! 

And we who are behind the lines — what of us ? Has the war 
changed us at all? We hope so. We feel that perhaps we're 
more efficient, more thoughtful for the needs of others, more 
aware of our faults, and ever courageously daring to meet and 
conquer all problems, in order to give our best to help in effecting 
the end of the war. We have a long row to hoe before we can 
be of any decisive aid to our Allies, but we've entered the struggle 
now, and we'll see it through! 

And after the war, will conditions be the same as before? 
Hardly. The cruel sword of Mars has already wrought too much 
damage. After the war, all our energies will be devoted to the 
task of restoration — a glorious work! Our days of thoughtless 
extravagance are gone — we see that we must minister to the 
needs of the world. We are beginning to feel the tragedy of it 
all, and to see dimly that from this savage strife will rise a better 
and a nobler world. It will be our task to unite the nations of 
the earth in a bond of loyalty to each other, and to do this, we 
must work. We cannot tarry, we cannot look back, our work 
is cut out for us. 

No, we shall not be the same after the war. We shall have 
lived — lived and learned. It would be impossible for us to be 
just the same carefree, happy-go-lucky people we were before. 
We shall not have lost our national characteristics, but let us 
hope that we shall have brought them out and proved ourselves 
worthy of the cause for which we are now fighting. 

The days of pre-war were good old days, happy and gay, but 
the days of the future will be purposeful — glorious! 

Elizabeth Holmes, 1918 

tEfye Cross 

Aloft a mighty elm tree rears its head, 

And at its foot a tiny wooden cross. 

When it was placed, no sacred words were said, 

And no sad friends were there to mourn the loss. 

A mighty victory was won that day 

For mankind and for all the human world, 

And there a wounded soldier dying lay 

And saw the flag of liberty unfurled. 

He smiled. His weary heart was soon at peace. 

A hostile soldier watched him from afar 

And sighed because he too, wished for release; 

But he was slightly hurt and death was far. 

Slowly a cross he fashioned from rough wood 

Which at his dead foe's head long time has stood. 

Catherine R. McReynolds, 1918 

3ofjn (Dxenfyam's ZUessage 

I know nothing about John Oxenham's life, nor indeed about 
any of his writings, except a few poems that he has written since 
the beginning of the War. These poems, however, are well worth 
reading, for not only are many of them beautiful poetry, but 
they are full of the high ideals of an Englishman, who has felt 
the War and seen the horror of it, but instead of being blinded 
by it, is able to see through and beyond it, and never loses sight 
of that noble spirit which the Allies must keep, if they are to win. 

One of the first characteristics that we notice, in reading 
these poems — many of them are only fragments — is their 
manliness. They are strong, healthy, manly, and very re- 
freshing after so much of the simpering feminine verse, that has 
been offered to the public lately, and which either has no thought 
at all, or has most successfully hidden it. Not so are Oxen- 
ham's poems. Each one has its own vigorous thought, a thought 
that is worth while, and will help others, especially those of us 
in America, who are beginning to feel about the war as England 
has felt for nearly four long years. They are the poems of a 
strong man who knows what he thinks, and is able to express it in 
straightforward, concrete English. 

John Oxenham has a distinct message for the people of Eng- 
land, a message that is best expressed in the title of one of his 
little collections of poems written during the first two years of 
the War. "All's Well." This is not blind, unseeing optimism; 
the author has a son in the trenches and has been in France 
himself. It is because he has seen the war, that he feels, not 
foolishly cheerful, but unswervingly confident. He has seen 
the people of England sending forth their boys with smiles 
and breaking hearts, and he has seen these same boys in the 
splendid beauty of their sacrifice, and to both he says, "All's 
Well." When he wrote these verses two years ago, the struggle 
seemed blacker than ever, but Oxenham was sure that peace 
would come soon. Although it did not come, and has not come 
yet, we can still believe that valiant cry, "All's Well." 

Not "All is Right." Oxenham does not mean that, but "All 
is going to be right" — that is, if England and her Allies keep hold 



of the best that is in them. Although with a full realization 
of the red horror that has been brought by "Policeman X" as 
he calls the Kaiser, Oxenham urges England not to hate. 

"Is there, in you or me, 

Seed of that poison-tree 

Which in its bitter fruiting: bore 

Such vintage sore 

Of red calamity — " 
he asks. Though very humble, he is convinced that England 
has been in the right, and that the Right will surely conquer, 
if only those who fight for it keep themselves pure and stop 

"Avid and anxious and hard of face. 
Sweating their souls in a Godless race." 
Not only must England be true during the struggle, but 
when it is over there must be "no peace but a right peace." 
The peace that can come only if at the Day of Settlement the 
warring powers invite Christ to a seat at the Board. Oxenham 
pleads for this. 

"Can we not rise to such great height of glory? 
Shall this vast sorrow spend itself in vain? 
Shall future ages tell the woeful story 
— 'Christ by His own was crucified again'?" 
Just as Oxenham has this message for all the world at war, 
he has a special word for those who have sent out their sons, 
never to return. With those boys "All is truly well." In one 
little poem he shows how clearly he understands what it all 
means, and the comfort he gives is not vain. 
"I know! I know! — 

The ceaseless ache, the emptiness, the woe, — 

Heedless and careless, still the world wags on, 

And leaves me broken . . .Oh, my son! my son! 

Yea, rather think on this! — 

He died as few men get the chance to die, — 

Fighting to save a world's morality. 

He died the noblest death a man may die, 

Fighting for God, and Right, and Liberty; — 

And such a death is Immortality. 



"He died unnoticed in the muddy trench. 

Nay — God was with him, and he did not blench." 

Margaret Bailey Speer, 1918 


'Tis not the glamour of khaki, 

'Tis not the lure of the blue, 

'Tis the country that lies behind them, 

And the heart that lies in you. 

Julie Sherman, 1918 

Jor prance 

It was exceedingly pleasant to be walking down F Street on a 
nice Saturday afternoon in June. There were several reasons 
why it was pleasant, but Captain Kelley, late of the R. A. M. C, 
now of the Royal Aviation Corps, did not stop to analyze them. 
He drifted along with the crowd gazing through the different 
show-windows at the wares so temptingly displayed, and at the 
same time keeping his eye on a certain pink straw hat several 
paces ahead. Now, there was nothing so out of the way about 
a pink straw hat — even a very pretty pink straw hat — but 
this one aroused the interest and stimulated the curiosity of 
Captain Kelley. Somehow it seemed very familiar to him, but 
as he had arrived at the Union Station early that morning, it 
was not very probable that he had seen it before. Losing sight 
of the hat for a minute, he quickened his step a little, and making 
a sudden dive through the crowd, he came out parallel to it. 
At the same instant the wearer of the pink hat glanced at him, 
and in a moment he was at her side. 

"Mary! I say, this is a jolly good surprise! Whoever would 
have thought of seeing you here?" 

"Bob!" The handshake was a hearty one. "How good it 
is to see someone from home! When did you come? Where 
are you staying? How long shall you be here?" The questions 
followed one another with such rapidity that he called out 
laughingly — 

"Stop! Stop! Give me a chance to answer you. I came 
this morning, am staying at the Shoreham, and I am attached 
for an indefinite time to the British Commission. But what are 
you doing here? I thought you were in Canada visiting your 
relatives. By Jove, I don't believe you've changed a bit in 
the last three years! Remember what fun we used to have at 
the manor? Do you realize that the last time I saw you was 
when you were visiting Edith in the fall of 1914? And even then 
I didn't see very much of you." 

"Well, you see you were in training, and besides you were al- 
ways very big-brotherish toward Edith, and, if I remember 


rightly, you rather patronized her friends!" She glanced mis- 
chievously at him and he had the grace to blush. 

"And, if I remember rightly, once I chased you and kissed you 
behind the stables." It was her turn to blush. Both laughed 
but were serious again in an instant. "You haven't told me yet 
what you are doing here. I ran up to London to see your uncle 
just before I left, and he told me you were visiting your relatives 
at Montreal." 

"Oh, I've made the rounds of my uncles and my aunts, and I 
even took in some of my cousins, but as I had promised uncle 
to stay over here a full year, I wanted to be useful while I was 
resting. I took a librarian's course in college so Uncle Harry 
secured me a position in the Congressional Library here." By 
this time they had reached the Library and she smilingly held 
out her hand, "I must go in and work now. Come around and 
see me to-night, can't you? I'm staying at 1934 16th Street, 
just above H." 

"I can find my way there all right. I'll be on hand at eight. 
Does that suit?" 

"That's fine! Good-bye." She entered the Library and he 
wandered aimlessly back to his hotel. 

At five-thirty that same afternoon, a thin, foreign looking 
boy of twelve years, entered the Library and walked immediately 
up to the desk. Gravely holding out his hand he said shyly, in 
excellent English, but with an unmistakably French accent, 

"Good afternoon, Miss Mary! How do you find yourself 

"Very well, thank you, Marcel. And you?" 

It was easy to see that the boy and the girl were good friends. 
She watched him a minute and then said suddenly, 

"Marcel, you didn't sleep well last night. You have circles 
under your eyes again to-day." The boy flushed and answered 

"No, I couldn't. I really tried, Miss Mary, but my uncle and 
Mr. Smith talked so loudly. It was maps again and they spoke 
German. How I wish I understood it. But whenever I ques- 
tion them, they beat me. Ever since they took me away from 
my beloved France, they have been busy with the maps and 



their wireless. I know that they are not working for France as 
they say they are." The boy grew more and more excited. 
"They tell me lies! I hate them! They are spies!" he ended 

"Hush! Hush!" the girl begged him. "You do not know 
what you are saying. If anyone overheard you, it would have 
very serious results for your uncle and his friend. But, Marcel, 
about the wireless. Why haven't you mentioned it before?" 

"I did not know myself before last night. They are so clever. 
Their maps, they keep with them always. You do not under- 
stand, Miss Mary. They are to meet again to-night, I know. 
Oh, why couldn't you come and listen! You understand Ger- 
man. Please do! I could hide you in a little closet — they 
would never find you. You could then see for yourself. Oh, 
please come home with me to-night, Miss Mary," the boy 
burst out. 

The girl hesitated. The wild adventure appealed to the dare- 
devil in her nature, but an English education made her pause. 
Suddenly, she went to the telephone, called up Captain Kelley, 
and, in a voice of suppressed excitement, told him that it would 
be impossible for her to see him that night, but she would call 
him up in the morning. Snatching up her hat and coat, she 
followed the boy into the street. They hesitated a minute 
outside while they bought some fruit from a street-vender, and 
then turned into a side street. Neither noticed a figure in khaki 
who appeared rather breathlessly just as they turned the corner 
and who stealthily followed them. At last they disappeared 
into a dingy old tenement, and an amazed whistle broke from 
the lips of Captain Robert E. Kelly. It was almost dark now 
and he wandered into a nearby alley to sit on an ash-can and 
collect his scattered thoughts. 

When he had heard the excitement in the girl's voice over the 
telephone he had known something was up, and being bored with 
life in general at that instant, he had rushed to the Library 
to investigate. The result surpassed his wildest thought. 

Meanwhile the girl followed Marcel up the rickety old steps 
into a dingy tenement room with only one window. Glancing 
around she caught the dim outline of a bed in one corner and a 



small table in the center. On the right a door led to a small 
closet with a little round hole in the wall to let in air. Marcel 
placed a chair in this and they quickly made a light meal of the 
fruit. Then Mary seated herself in the closet to await the 
coming of the two men. 

She had not long to wait for soon footsteps were heard as- 
cending the stairway, and the door opened. An exclamation, 
which sounded suspiciously like "Donner and Blitzen" was 
heard as the speaker stumbled over a chair. 

"Are you there, Marcel?" a harsh, guttural voice cried. 

"Yes," answered the boy sullenly from his bed. 

"Light the candle then, and be quick about it." As the boy 
complied, the speaker turned to let in another man, with a 
dark, smooth-shaven face, a slinking manner, and a wavering 
eye. The former was a stolid blond man with a heavy mus- 
tache and cruel blue eyes. Neither of the men had seen a 
third person, a figure in khaki, who had crept quietly into the 
house after them, and waited outside the door. As soon as 
they were seated, the men began to talk rapidly in German, 
always keeping their voices low. At the first sound the man 
outside stifled an exclamation, and with no scruples, stooped 
down holding his ear close against the keyhole. How he wished 
they wouldn't talk so fast, or rather how he wished he under- 
stood German better! He caught phrases and sentences now 
and then, but they only served to aggravate his curiosity. 

In the small closet, quiet as a mouse, a girl also listened with 
all her heart and mind, and with much better results. She 
could occasionally see the men's faces and hardly missed a word 
of their conversation. She drank in every word eagerly, and 
as they rose to go, she thanked her lucky stars that she had been 
there. As they passed out into the hall a figure in khaki slipped 
around the corner barely escaping their notice. When they were 
safely out of the building, the man in khaki entered the room, and 
came face to face with the girl. 

"Mary! Thank God you are safe! Did you hear it all?" 
She nodded affirmation, and a moment later both of them with 
a sleepy Marcel between them were safely packed into a taxi on 
their way to Mary's. In her little sitting-room, they wrote out 



their report for the Secret Service. Mary gave a gasp of relief 
when it was finished and hugged Marcel. 

"Marcel, you are a real hero. You have served la belle 
France. You shall never go back to those men again. Will 
you go to England with me and be educated?" 

"No, Marcel. It's my job to see that you get an education 
worthy of your spirit. Won't you come with me?" 

The boy hesitated, unable to decide, and sent a shy glance 
first at Mary, then at the man. Captain Kelley, reading his 
thought, turned gravely to the girl at his side. 

"Mary, I don't see anything for it but that we must go into 
partnership. Will you, dear?" 

Then for the second time Mary blushed, and Marcel con- 
siderately dozed off to sleep. 

Catherine Reminc McRcyuoIds, 19 IS 

Where leads this path of wilful recklessness? 

Of wanton lust and unrestrained desire 

For goods and power — yet nothing that is higher — 

To shine through all the desolate wilderness, 

And lead you to a long despised redress? 

And was it thus you thought to flee the ire 

Of Heaven, while yet your course lay through the mire? 

Mad world! at last an end of heedlessness! 

For like a demon out the dark did rise 

The monster with War flaming in his eyes, 

To drive you back e'en to the grim cross-road, 

W r here, stumbling under pleasure's mocking goad 

You chose the way that leads astray from right. 

— And yet again God shows the path of light. 

Louise Colby, 1918 

Cfye pirates' Den 

The steep stone steps leading down to the basement of Number 
183 Fourth Street, West, were brown with age and worn, and 
the iron railing was twisted and bent. The lurid sign, "Pirates' 
Den" rattled in the breeze. Downstairs cigarette smoke 
choked the air, and above the noise of clattering dishes and 
high pitched laughter came the merry tinkle of mandolins and 
the deeper notes of a piano. 

It was half past five, the popular time of the day in the tea- 
room, for Don Dickerman himself was there to see that the guests, 
principally the ones not of the Village, were made to feel at 
home; that Oscar, the violinist, had his own particular coffee, 
and that the music had the life and swing he alone knew how 
to put into it. Everyone will tell you that Don Dickerman 
is the presiding genius of the Pirates' Den. He can settle a 
quarrel as easily as he sells a futurist painting to the man from 
Idaho, who is seeing New York. And yet the place isn't a 
money-making proposition. The inhabitants of Greenwich 
Village, artists, musicians, hopeful authors and others, who 
depend on the fickle public for a living, are not in the habit of 
spending much on food. So Don Dickerman's smile may 
sometimes be a little forced, but his patrons have their own 
worries, and artistically inclined people are apt to be self-centered. 

He has been a part of The Village for only ten months. Three 
years ago he had saved up enough money to pay for a part of 
the medical education that would some day make him a great 
physician. He was a little older then the other men, but saving 
had been a long process. Then he met Adele Cortes and suc- 
cumbed to the power of her dark eyes and loveliness. They 
were married six weeks after he first saw her. Of course there 
had to be more money, but even Adele's pleadings could not 
move him from his purpose of studying to be a doctor. It was 
the time of the dance craze ; Don had a gift for music, and there 
was an opening for a good orchestra in the Jersey suburbs. 
From the very beginning, Dickerman's music was a success. 
Dressed in white ducks, and playing his steel guitar, Don Dick- 
erman was the most popular person at club and fraternity dances, 



and with the hostesses at exclusive private dances. If his 
orchestra was to furnish the music the success of the party was 
assured. "What music?" drawled the blase youth. "Oh, 
Dickerman, not half bad, I may drop in for a few minutes." 

So the doctor-musician studied during the day and played far 
into the early mornings. It was not a very normal life and 
at the end of the first winter, the strain was beginning to tell. 
Adele was growing tired of married life. They saw each other 
very little; when he was home, she was usually dancing in some 
restaurant with the gay young crowd she had known before 
she married Don. He was still so much in love with her that 
he couldn't see that she had changed. One day in a fit of temper, 
over a petty incident, Adele told him that his medical career was 
all foolishness, that he enjoyed spending the evenings away from 
her and that he could earn money in some other way if he chose. 
— There was a big dance that night at the Essex Fells Country 
Club, and he had to hurry to catch a train. 

The next morning, Adele had disappeared, leaving a hurried 
scrawl on a theatre program, saying that if she ever wanted to 
see him again she would find him. Later. Don heard that she 
was living in Greenwich Village, evidently as an artist's model. 
So he opened the "Pirates' Den." dropped his medical course, 
and gave up the orchestra, smashing all dreams for the future. 
Don is now running The Den in a rather vain hope that someday 
Adele will come back to him as he has given up everything in 
life which was of value to him. which Adele disliked. 

The cigarette smoke is heavy in the "Pirates' Den." Don 
Dickerman looks tired, and still Adele has not come. 

Margaret Langcnbacher* 1919 

§is (girl 

"She's skipped you again to-day, Benjamin! I knew you 
were busy, so I took an extra look at the mail box for you. 
Cheer up, old fellow, there'll be another mail to-morrow." 

Bennie looked up from his laborious task of sewing a botton on 
his khaki shirt. He smiled, albeit rather crookedly, at his 
grinning friend. "Thanks awfully, Joe," he said perfunctorily, 
while his fiery red ears testified his embarrassment at the mention 
of "Her." Bennie's ears had a way of doing that, although the 
rest of his face could be kept under good control. As Joe drew 
out of hearing, he allowed himself a faint little sigh. It was odd 
that "she" had not written him for three whole days. Joe 
couldn't have been mistaken about the mail, for practically the 
whole company knew the significance of the familiar violet envel- 
ope which came daily addressed to one Corporal Benjamin D. 
Bowen. It was rather a deep violet, with small, feminine hand- 
writing in purple ink and a faint scent of lavender hovering 
about the paper. Even the stamp harmonized with the color 
scheme for it, too, was purple. Benjamin had been rather 
modest at first about claiming this missive. He would wait 
until the other boys were occupied with their own mail before 
endeavoring quietly to get possession of his. But Company 
B, soon realized what was afoot and would pass the letter from 
one to another of the laughing crowd until it reached Benjamin. 
At these times, Bennie's state of mind — or we might better say, 
of heart — would be clearly shown by the heated color of his 
ears. But now, no lavender letter had arrived in camp for 
three days; Benjamin sighed again, as he pensively viewed the 

result of his needlework. 

* * * * * 

It was a big night at the "Y" Hut, and the huge shack hummed 
with that peculiar drone of many men's voices. Benjamin and 
Joe were wedged in on a bench beside one of the long, reading 

"There aren't any more Cleveland papers, Bennie, old boy," 
said Joe as he caught sight of his friend patiently searching 
through a pile of magazines and papers, "I hunted half an hour, 



myself, for this one. You can have it in a few shakes when I 
have given it the 'once over.' " Suddenly, he uttered a low 
exclamation. After an odd glance at Benjamin, he sprang to 
his feet and dragged the protesting Bennie to join a rousing 
chorus round the piano. "Whew!" he muttered to another 
mess-mate. "That was a close shave. For Pete's sake, keep 
Bennie away from the reading table to-night. The home paper 
has the notice of Flora Gray's marriage to a New York man — 
that's Bennie's girl, you know. I wondered why he hadn't 
received one of those lavender letters in the last week." 

At mail time the next day the usual hubbub rose to a perfect 
din. There was another violet letter for Corporal Benjamin 
D. Bowen! Bennie received this belated epistle with the cus- 
tomary embarrassment. But the expression on his face as he 
read it, changed from anxiety to a rather sheepish relief and joy. 

"Good news, old man?" asked Joe. 

"Yes," sighed Benjamin happily. "She's married another 
man ! Moonlight and waltz music always did have a fool effect 
on me. Ye gods! and I sure was afraid for a while that she 
would do the wait-till-my-soldier-comes-home act." 

Elizabeth Armstrong, 1919 

0?e Hoab 

Over hill, over dale, it comes again to me, 
Through rain, through hail, it calls again to me. 
Can't you feel it, can't you feel it, oh, you people of the town? 
Don't your little lives in houses ever seem to press you down? 
There's a wider, fairer country where your broken hearts shall 

There's a winding road to travel with an understanding friend! 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

3cm Kelson, ITCanager 

Yes. it could no longer be denied! They had all tried not to 
believe it, and until now had succeeded very well in persuading 
themselves, that it was not true, but they could no longer fool 
themselves. It was the truth, the sad, sad truth, that they 
must face! Dora McBoony, the leading lady of the "Bijou 
Stock Players" was — oh, how can I say it! — was — fat! Jim 
Ketson, the villain (also manager), finally saw that something 
must be done. Dora, who used to be so slim and graceful, 
with her bobbing black curls, kept an audience spell-bound 
with her vivacious acting, but now, all was different — Dora 
was fat. Every day there were fewer and fewer people in the 
"Palace Theatre," and they looked as though they were wishing 
their quarters had been spent for movies with a sundae after- 
wards, instead of for "Freckles" with Dora, as leading lady. 

Something must be done, and because Dora was so sensitive, 
it must be done very cleverly. It was up to Jim to do it for 
no one else had the nerve. But what could he do? Of course, 
he had heard of that famous book "Eat and Grow Thin," but, 
how could he present it to Dora without her being offended? 
Dora knew that she was fat, and she knew Jim knew she was fat, 
and Jim knew that she knew that he knew she was fat, but 
nevertheless, he must not offend her, for she must not leave the 
"Bijou Players," oh, no! The truth was that Jim Ketson, 
the villain (also manager), was very fond of Dora. Therefore, 
things must be fixed up. 

Jim purchased the "Eat and Grow- Thin" book and carefully 
left it in the wing where Dora was to await her cue. When Dora 
left, the book was gone also, much to Jim's delight. But it 
worried Jim, in the days to come, as to whether or not she had 
taken the book to heart — apparently she had not, for she did 
not become the least bit slimmer. To test her Jim offered her 
chocolate creams, which he knew she was very fond of. and 
each time she refused them, but did accept an apple or a peach 
from him now and then, so he knew she was following the book. 
But of what use was it? It did no good at all ! 



At last Jim thought of a plan which he knew would not fail 
if it were carried out carefully enough. He could count upon 
Dora's being a good sport in any case. And so Jim asked Dora 
to go on a picnic with him to "Fairy Isle" on Monday, which 
could be managed easily for the only performance on that day 
came in the evening. "Let's go and have a great old day and 
swim and take in everything. What do you say, Dora?" 

Dora was innocently anxious for the day, and on Monday 
morning, Jim drove over for her in his new Ford and off they 
went! Now, the road to "Fairy Isle" was notorious for being 
one of the most terrible roads in the state, and when anyone did 
venture along it, in a machine, he did so very slowly and care- 
fully. On this day the air was clear and the weather warm 
and Jim decided to speed a little so he pulled down the throttle 
and off they dashed at thirty miles an hour on a road that almost 
finished the Ford. From time to time, Jim looked at Dora out 
of the corner of his eye and saw her attempting to cling to the 
edge of the cushion. Her face was white with fear, but she was 
too good a sport to suggest that they slow down. Jim's heart 
smote him, as he saw her being bounced so pitifully, but he only 
took a firmer grip on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead. 

At last, they arrived at the beach and it was a weary Dora 
who stepped from the machine and walked with Jim to the 
bath houses. Of course Jim was the first to be ready and he 
took the opportunity to hand the swimming instructor five dol- 
lars extra, for which he begged him to keep her "at it" for at 
least two hours. The instructor did as he was bid and for two 
long hours poor Dora practiced the "crawl" under his rigid 

When they were again clothed in their proper apparel, it was 
past two o'clock and they were hungry, but Jim remembered 
how, when he was a boy, he had loved to take a bag of cherries 
and go down on the sand and eat them and he thought it a good 
plan for them to try. Dora was famished and Jim had no small 
appetite but he was bound he would not give in, so they feasted 
upon a box of cherries. 

As soon as the last cherry was gone, Jim reminded Dora that 
they had better go and take a look around and try some of the 



The first they tried was the "Crazy Village" and they went 
through all the antics one must perform to get out after he has 
entered — climbed up slippery bamboo stair-cases, rushed 
across moving floors and sat upon seats which rose up and 
threw you several feet as soon as you thought yourself com- 
fortable. At last they breathed the fresh air and started for 
the "merry-go-round." Jim found Dora a prancing steed which, 
as the merry-go-round started, lurched back and forth with the 
most amazing rapidity and jerkiness. Many times they went 
around; each time Dora became more exhausted, but Jim's 
mind was made up! He would see the thing through. 

At last, they must go, and again they started off on the bad 
road at the same rate of speed at which they had come when — 
— sh-sh-sh-she — whizz — a puncture! Jim got out and 
jacked up the wheel, but the jack slipped and Jim's wrist was 
twisted. There they were, ten miles from anywhere, with a 
sprained wrist and a puncture! Well, there was nothing for 
Dora to do but get out and fix it and after she had pumped 
the required amount of air into the tire, it was all she could do 
to drag herself back into the machine and sit up while Jim drove 
one-handed back to town. 

At last they were home. Soon they were busy on the even- 
ing performance and everything else was forgotten. 

The play on Tuesday was given up because Dora was too ill 
to appear. 

On Wednesday, she came — was it Dora? Yes! the old 
Dora, slim and graceful again. Jim was so happy that he just 
walked straight up to her and — I won't tell you what he 
did — anyway, Dora McBoony, is now Mrs. Jim Ketson. 

Marian Nichols, 1919 


In midst of seething crowds, and busy streets, 

Beside slow-moving rivers, deep and still, 

On brown tramped fields where now our men must drill, 

And drill for war in hidden deep retreats 

Of forests, sometimes looking out upon the fleets 

Of nations, and once in a murky mill 

Where men work long and hard on things to kill 

Their fellow-men — in all my heart's swift beats 

I feel the pain of loneliness for you, 

The ever-present, ever-growing need 

Of your companionship, your faith, your trust. 

No matter where I go, no matter who 

Are my companions, still my heart doth plead 

For you, and still, I think, forever must. 

Elizabeth Gray, 1918 

Ho Cope Cike tt?e (£16 Cope 

"Good evenin', Lydie." 

"Why, good evenin', Harvey, how be ye these days? I ain't 
seen ye nowhere around for a month of Sundays. How's yet 
wife? Won't ye set down over there in that alcove and have an 
old time chat with yer old friend?" 

It was the evening of the Church Social that Mrs. Beck 
chanced to meet her first but divorced husband, after a number 
of years. Since then they had both married, and they were 
now at a ripe old age. After their separation they had had no 
hard feelings for one another. They had parted on friendly 
terms. They merely could not agree on certain matters, so 
they felt it due each other's life happiness to separate. And now, 
after years, they chanced to meet at a church social. 

"Yes, indeedie, I shall be delighted," said Mr. Benson, cau- 
tiously lowering himself to a fragile chair. "Well, Lydie, the 
years ain't changed ye much sence I last seen ye. Of course, 
the years are bound to change the color of the hair — but why 
all this gloomy dress yer wearin'?" 

"Oh Harvey, it's a long story, but I'll cut it short by tellin' 
ye me old man up and died a month ago from the rheumatiz. 
Well, it was a hard time I had of it, an' the years for me ain't 
been as happy as I thought they'd be. — I'm glad to be seein' 
ye Harvey," exclaimed Mrs. Beck after a pause, as she lifted a 
pair of moist, faded blue eyes to those of Harvey Benson. "You 
ain't changed much either Harvey, perhaps ye're a bit stout, 
but it seems to give ye a more pompous aspect. It's becomin' 
to ye, Harv, I like it." 

"Now do ye, Lydie?" returned Harvey blushing a little. 
"Well, I'm glad ye do. No, I don't feel much changed on the 
outside, but I tell ye it hurts on the inside. Since I left ye that 
mornin' I ain't been happy. Of course Sarie meant well enough, 
but I'm pop sure her heart was made of metal, and since her 
death a year ago, I've been wantin' ye, Lyd. I'll never forget 
our first dinner together when ye hopped on me knee an' fed me 
them sweet potatoes. Sure them were happy days, until we 
began to wrangle over who should hunt the eggs. But that's 



past now and those chickens are dead, ain't they Lyd? Lyd 
dearie," pleaded Harvey bending over the little old lady, 
"don't ye think ye could love me a little mite still? Don't 
ye think we could buy our eggs?" 

"Yes," breathed the little old lady bending beneath his em- 
brace. "Yes, Harvey, let's buy our eggs." 

Harriet B. Sanford, 1919 

In lighter VLein 

Co tfye Hataator 

A friendly piping in the morn I hear 

When day is still held back by darkness cold, 

More sweet than pipes of Pan to my nipped ear. 

I draw my head beneath the blanket fold 

In warm content, with no disturbing thought 

Of dressing in a bleak and chilly room. 

The closing of the window wide is naught — 

An undertaking great it used to loom. 

I find delight now in thy click and bang, 

Thy rhythmic rattle fraught with gurgling sounds. 

I'll brave the north wind with its bite and tang 

When thy shrill whistle all its fierceness drowns. 

O Radiator, with thy gladdening heat. 

Would I could sing they praise with fervor meet ! 

Elizabeth Armstrong, 1919 

IPhen (Senius Ooesn't Burn 

I cannot write about the lovely Spring, 

Somehow my words seem not to want to rhyme; 

And yet that is almost the only thing 

With which a poet ought to waste his time. 

Of course there's Love, but what know I of such? 

Or. if I did. I could not write about 

A feeling that has been described so much — 

I see I must leave that, without a doubt. 

Ah! then what's left for poor, but worthy me? 

This world of things, so large and yet so small — 

An host of wonders round about. I see; 

But none of them do seem to suit at all. 

And so I fear that this must be the end, 

And I to other duties must attend. 

Dorothy Fairfield, 1918 



^erotc Couplets 

Four pairs of shoes were standing in a row 
Which seemed to say, "Shine me before you go." 
But off I went and left them all alone, 
And then, returning, met them with a groan, 
For there they were, just as they stood before, 
Seeming to cry, "Please shine me!" all the more. 

Margaret Dane, 1919 

Laughter is a pleasant thing to hear, 

But ah — too much is tiresome to the ear. 

Dorothy Stibbs, 1919 

Marie, she knew no English, but she cooed ; 

And Sammy knew no French, but still he wooed. 

Kathryn Beck, 1919 

If you will give this world a bit of cheer 
You'll find it pays you back, year after year. 
But if, instead, you offer naught but gloom, 
You'll find — for you there's not a speck of room. 

Grace Leyser, 1919 


Everything around Abbot has changed in appearance; even 
old Abbot Hall has been remodeled, and the only reminders of 
other years are the uncomfortable little gray benches in chapel, 
whose very uncomfortableness old Abbot girls love, for they 
have been a part of the school since it was founded in 1828. 
And yet between the girls of ninety years ago and the 
girls of the present day the differences may not be so great as 
we imagine at first. We are facing one of the crises in the world's 
history. Are we preparing ourselves to the best of our ability? 
If the Abbot girls of ninety years ago were in our places now, 
would they be more efficient and more eager to seize every 
opportunity to fit themselves for service to their country? 
Abbot girls have never been dependent, weak-willed creatures. 
We like to think that in the years when girls didn't drive aero- 
planes and vote, they were making good use of the knowl- 
edge which they received at Abbot. As the girls who have 
worked for Abbot and loved Abbot as we do come back to visit 
the Abbot of 1918, may we girls of to-day do our best to 
prove to them that we are living up to and upholding all of the 
fine traditions of the school. 

Organization and co-operation are the two watchwords of 
the American people who are standing behind our army, making 
it possible for the Allies to cry, "The line still holds." This 
spirit has reached to every part of the United States, and not 
least among the groups working together as efficient organiza- 
tions are our preparatory schools. Military training has been 
a part of Abbot's school life this spring. Under the Abbot Pa- 
triotic League the girls have undertaken the care of their own 
rooms, which are inspected by the drill officers three times a 
week. This is not an altogether new plan, as until compara- 
tively recently Abbot girls have had charge of their rooms. 
But now for the first time in Abbot's history her girls are assist- 
ing in the school's farming, releasing men for more active service. 
Every afternoon, when classes are over for the day, groups of 
girls may be seen cutting the grass on the circle or starting out 



valiantly for the potato patch. About eighty hours of work 
a week have been volunteered by the girls, and as much has been 
accomplished in farm work as in former years. So far this spring 
fifteen bushels of potatoes have been planted. 

The Abbot Battalion made its first public appearance on 
Monday evening, May 20th, when it marched in the Red Cross 
Parade held in Andover. The parade started at Maple Avenue 
and marched up Main Street to Brothers' Field. The Battalion 
was received cordially on all sides. Major Davy afterwards 
expressed his entire satisfaction in the results which he had 
obtained at Abbot this year, and told us that he was very proud 
of us and hoped that he would be able to continue the military 
training next fall. 

About Christmas-time there were evidences of military ac- 
tivity at Phillips in the occasional khaki-clad figure one saw 
passing the school or in the agonized blare of the bugle one some- 
times heard. Even these signs were quite thrilling — we felt 
we were living in a very exciting and patriotic place. But now, 
with June close at hand and Andover in all the glory of its thickly- 
foliaged trees and blossom-covered stone walls, the sound of 
truly martial music is wafted down from the Hill, the khaki- 
clad boys swing by at a purposeful and soldier-like pace, we have 
seen the trenches they've been digging, we've seen the boys at 
work and on parade, and we realize that they are all earnestly 
giving their services to Uncle Sam. 

Major R. N. Davy, R. O. C. E. F., as commandant, and Lieut. 
R. E. Wyatt, also of the overseas Canadian force, his assistant 
since April, have certainly worked wonders with the boys in 
preparing them for the active service which will undoubtedly 
be theirs in the near future. They all seem to realize the gravity 
of the situation and the great advantage in learning as much as 
possible about military science and tactics before leaving An- 
dover. The sight of those trenches back of Brothers' Field, 
which the boys themselves are building under Lieut. Wyatt's 
direction, certainly brings home to one the grim realities of war. 
The boys are serious — there is no doubt about that. Their 



exhibition drills have been practically flawless and carried out 
with an aim that is worthy of the school. This summer there 
will be a camp on the Hill for accepted volunteers, who will be 
put through a course of training as intensive as that given to 
Senior officers of the U. S. R. 

The spirit of the school is splendid. Perhaps it is the magni- 
ficent honor roll of her boys who are now at the Front, in the air, 
and on the sea. perhaps it is also the daily contact with men 
who have fought in France and know for what to prepare them, 
perhaps it is the full realization of their country's need — at 
any rate, the school is at the fore as always. Old P. A., here's to 

Although we all admire Odeon from afar, some of us have 
known comparatively little about the work of the girls belonging 
to the society. So some may be interested to know a little more 
about it. To belong to Odeon is an honor which all the mem- 
bers are doing their best to live up to by bringing the standard 
of good literature at Abbot up to the very highest degree. This 
year the girls have been making a study of war books. A small 
library has been started, each girl giving a book, which The 
Odeon expects to turn over to the School Library* in the future. 
Each girl has also written a short story, and the collection is to 
be bound together, and given to the writer of the story which is 
adjudged the best. 

Odeon is composed of ten girls chosen for their literary ability 
and appreciation. They stand for what is best in literature 
at Abbot, and their aim is to make this standard yet higher. 
We are all very proud of our girls in Odeon and look for great 
things from them in the future. 

This is the second year that we have had rhythmic expression 
at Abbot, and about half the girls in school are taking it twice a 
week. It is really a wonderful study and Miss Adams is a splen- 
did exponent of her art. We all like it very much, for the idea 
back of it is beautiful. We must realize only the beauty in the 
world and then express it through ourselves — that is the fun- 



damental idea of rhythmic expression. In the classes we for- 
get ourselves, our cares, the world, and the war; we hear only 
exquisite music and dance as it bids us. We have been dancing 
this Spring out near the grove with those majestic trees for a back- 
ground. It is a lovely sight to see the girls frolicing over the 
grass in their soft gray-tinted garments. It is a pleasure to dance 
in the woods and be happy and care-free. The communion 
with nature is good for us and we all feel that we have benefited 
greatly by our study of rhythmic expression this year. We wish 
to thank Miss Adams for the sincere and helpful interest she 
has shown us. 

The giving-up of the Riding School by Mr. Cross, while not a 
momentous happening in the routine of Abbot, still has a deep 
significance to many individuals. The opportunity of riding 
horse-back has given to some girls the privilege of seeing the 
country around in a new and distinctly different way. The 
gallops along little by-paths and winding country roads have 
brought these girls into a more intimate connection with An- 
dover. They have somehow come closer to nature. The dis- 
continuance of the Riding School will make a void in their lives 
here at Abbot, which cannot quite be filled with any other pleas- 
ure. This change is only another way in which we are touched 
by the war. And it makes us realize how seriously we must 
think about giving up the harmless luxuries which have given us 
so much happiness before. After the war we hope that the 
Riding School will be established again. 

How much livelier and more fascinating country life is than 
city life! Have you ever heard of a family living in the city 
getting up at dawn in order to see one or two birds jump into a 
bird bath? In the country when we see a bird of an unusual 
variety we are wild with excitement. How much more vigorous 
is a cross country ride on a frisky horse in the morning than a 
dirty hot ride in the subway! At noontime when the factories 
close for a brief hour, the workers hurry out into the already over- 
crowded streets and enter into the small restaurants and order a 
cup of coffee or tea with skimmed milk instead of rich cream. 



In the country we can eat our lunch out in the fields or woods. 
For water we have the cool, pure spring, and all the milk and 
cream we desire is ours. In the hot afternoons we do not have 
to search for a seat in a park, for there is a place under every 
tree that we might occupy. In the evening we do not have to 
rush to the movies, theatres or dance halls for amusement, for 
all day long we have been so busy that at night all we want is 
a good, comfortable bed. 

Scbool 3ournaI 



19 Miss Howey and four girls attend Y. W. C. A. Patriotic League Confer- 

ence in Cambridge. 

20 Girls' Musicale in Miss Bailey's rooms. 

22 We go to the Abbot Tea-Room for supper. 

23 Lecture at Stone Chapel. Mr. Rihbany: Entry Into Jerusalem. 

26 Patriotic League Meeting. 

27 Rev. Dumont Clarke: Character. 

29 Junior-Mid and Senior-Mid sleigh-rides. 

30 First Meeting of Officers' Class. 

31 Examinations begin. 


2 Abbot Luncheon at the Hotel Vendome in Boston. 

3 Rev. Henry Hallam Tweedy talked on "Liberty" in chapel. 

4 Seniors go to Intervale. 
7 And the Seniors return. 

9 Recital by the Boston String Quartet. 

10 Miss Bailey in Chapel: Loyalty. 

12 Senior- Mid Play: The Twig of Thorn. 

17 Miss Mabel Emerson: Our good fortune in living in this age. 

21 Andover Junior Promenade. 

22 Military Exhibition at Phillips. 

24 Mrs. Speer: The Fullness of Life. 
26 The Three Senior Prize Plays. 

28 Recital by Mr. Arthur Hackett in Davis Hall. 


1 Mr. Flagg talks on Banking. 
Military Exhibition at Phillips. 

2 The Abbot Senior Promenade. 

3 Miss Bailey: The Book of Esther. 

4 Mr. J. W. Erwin: Illustrated Lecture on Puget Sound. 

5 Dr. McClure of McCormick University. 

9 Miss Agnes Donham: The Income Budget. 

10 -Miss Wiggin of the Consumers' League speaks to us. There is also a 
Northfield meeting. 



12 Spanish Evening in Davis Hall. 

15 Military Exhibition in the Phillips Gymnasium. 

17 Mr. Bigelow: Mr. H. G. Wells's God. 

18 Our Easter vacation begins. 


3 Back at school again. 

7 Easter Service in Davis Hall. 

13 Miss Helen Fraser: What Englishwomen are doing in the war. 

14 Rev. D. Brewer Eddy: Righteousness is the determining factor of Chris- 


16 The Barnstormers present a play. 

20 Miss Hanscom of Smith College: The Poetry of the War. 

21 Miss Bailey in chapel. 

23 The Senior Play: As You Like It. 

25 Glee Club Concert for the benefit of the Surgical Dressings Fund. 

26 Mr. Flagg talked on Insurance. 

27 Concert by Violin and Violoncello Pupils. In the evening Dr. Speer 

talked to us on "Sincerity." 
29 Miss Blauvelt: John Brown. 


1 May Breakfast in the Town Hall. 

4 Recital by Miss Bennett's and Mr. Ashton's pupils. 

5 Dr. Williams spoke to us in A. C. A. about the need of women in China. 

Rev. Frank R. Shipman spoke to us in chapel. 

7 Miss Morgan: The Dawn of a To-morrow. 

8 Geology Expedition with Miss Kelsey and Miss Lane. The Senior Art 

Class go with Miss Howey to Mrs. Jack Gardner's Palace. Tea at 
Miss Pooke's studio for the faculty. 

11 Prof. Tyler of Amherst: Conformity to Environment. 

12 Chapel Service in Davis Hall. Prof. Tyler: Friendship. 

14 Miss Gates gives a violin recital in Davis Hall, accompanied by Miss 


15 The Abbot Battalion sees the Phillips Regiment drill. 

18 Concert by First Year Vocal Expression Class and some of Prof. Ash- 

ton's pupils. Military Inspection of rooms by Miss Bailey and Major 

19 Miss Bailey in chapel: Power. 

20 Senior Tables. The Abbot Battalion marches in the Red Cross Parade 

in Andover. 

22 Field Day. 

25 Mrs. Stannard: Food Conservation. 
27 Miss Nichols: Violin Recital. 




The Commencement Exercises will be held from June 9 to June 11. 

The baccalaureate sermon will be preached by Prof. John Winthrop 
Platner, D.D., and the commencement address will be given by Dr. Robert 
E. Speer. 

The Draper readers are — 

Julia Conant Abbe of Dublin, New Hampshire 

Elizabeth Armstrong of Buffalo, New York 

Mildred Coleman of Flushing, New York 

Grace Myra Kepner of Monett, Missouri 

Eleonore Kimbel Taylor of New Rochelle, New York 

Anna Faith Williams of Nanking, China 

Helen Thornton Wygant of Newburgh, New York 


Irene At wood 


Louise Jackson Bacon 


Dorothy Bushnell 

A ndover 

Dorothea Clark 

St. Johnsbury, Vermont 

Ruth Farrington Clark 

North A ndover 

Mary Freethy Davis 

North Andover 

Carolyn Elizabeth Doolin 

St. Albans, Vermont 

Ruth Hathaway Eaton 

West Roxbury 

Helen Ruth Farrington 


Angele Mildred Greenough 

Spokane, Washington 

Clarissa Alden Horton 

Windsor Locks, Connecticut 

Marion Fildew Hubbard 

Pontiac, Michigan 

Mary Kunkel 

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 

Helen Florence Martin 

Newport, New Hampshire 

Margaret Morris 

Germantown, Pennsylvania 

Marion Russell McPherson 


Katherine Menzies Pinckney 


Katharine Righter 

East Orange, New Jersey 

Helen Agnes Briggs Robertson 


Velma Leone Rowell 


Dorothy Mary Stalker 

East Boston 

Virginia Vincent 

Boonton, New Jersey 

Natalie Weed 

Newburgh, New York 


Ruth Emily Allen 


Harriet Louise Colby 

Claremont, New Hampshire 

Dorothy Fairfield 


Helen Wentworth French 


Elizabeth Blodgett Holmes 

Janesville, Wisconsin 



Mary Abbott Jepherson 
Beatrice Ellen Kenyon 
Anna Lois Lindsay 
Emmavail Luce 
Martha Grace Miller 
Catherine Remine McReynolds 
Julie Pfingst Sherman 
Margaret Bailey Speer 
Catherine Louise Stilwell 

Providence, Rhode Island 

Amsterdam, New York 
Shanghai, China 
Newark, Ohio 
Washington, D. C. 

Englewood, New Jersey 
Anderson, Indiana 


Elizabeth Agnes Gray 
Margaret Florence Hinchcliffe 

Duluth, Minnesota 
A ndover 


Mr. James W. Erwin of California gave an illustrated lecture in Davis Hall, 
on Monday evening, March 4. A few of the pictures were motion pictures, 
but most of them were stereopticon slides. He first showed us San Francisco 
Harbor, the Golden Gate and Mt. Tamalpais. Leaving San Francisco, we 
travelled northward to Portland and Seattle. We went on a delightful sail 
down Puget Sound, and we not only saw the sound by water, but we went 
by automobile along the wonderful highway which follows the Sound. 

Miss Agnes Donham, a member of the faculty of The Garland School, spoke 
to us at Hall Exercises, on Saturday, March 9. She talked on an income 
budget, and said that each girl should keep her own budget and should decide 
on a definite amount that she could afford to spend for each thing. The 
value of keeping a budget is to save more than you could otherwise and not 
to spend more than your income. 

Miss Mary Wiggin, who has often spoken to us on the Consumers' League, 
spoke to us this year on the conditions under which women are working in the 
factories in Massachusetts. She is on a committee to investigate these con- 
ditions, and gave us most stirring accounts of the lives of some of these women. 

Miss Helen Fraser of London, who is lecturing in this country on the part 
women are taking in winning the war, spoke to us on Saturday, April 13. 
She explained about the work being done in England by the women. They 
not only work in factories, the women with titles working side by side with 
the factory girls, but they are doing every kind of work. One group of women 
and girls, known as the canary girls, have sacrificed everything and are work- 
ing on dangerous explosives of such a kind that gradually their hair, lips and 
even their skin become yellow. Miss Fraser explained about the food con- 
ditions and told how willing everyone is to economize. Each person is al- 
lowed so much flour a week and the richer class go without their full share so 
that the working class, which needs the flour the most, may have a little 
more than their portion. 

Reverend D. Brewer Eddy, spoke in Abbot Hall, Sunday evening, April 14. 



His talk was about the present crisis in the war, and he urged us all to be 
very optimistic and to give everything we could, both spiritually and mater- 
ially, to help win the war. 

On the evening of April 20, Miss Hanscom of Smith College read to us in 
Davis Hall a paper which she had prepared on "The Poetry of the War." It 
was very interesting and extremely well-written, in good, clear style. She 
quoted from the various poets this war has produced, Wilfrid Gibson, Ru- 
pert Brooke, and many others, and the quotations were well-chosen to bring 
out the points she wished to make. There have been some lovely bits of 
poetry — but nothing very great has yet been written. In Miss Hanscom's 
opinion the great poetry of the war is still to come. We were very fortunate 
in hearing such an interesting paper by such an interesting woman as Miss 
Hanscom, and hope that she will visit us again. 

Miss Mary Taylor Blauvelt, of Farmington School, gave a lecture on 
"John Brown" in Davis Hall, Monday evening, April 29. She showed us in 
an exceedingly interesting manner that John Brown, murderer and law- 
breaker as he undoubtedly was, had the cause of righteousness and justice 
at heart, although he failed to connect his high ideals with a practical applica- 
tion. We understand now through Miss Blauvelt's appreciation of this mis- 
guided leader, the fine motives and the undying spirit of John Brown which 
the Union soldiers carried with them through the Civil War. At the close of 
the lecture the audience joined the Glee Club in singing, "John Brown's 
body lies a-mouldering in the grave, but his soul goes marching on." 

"The Dawn of a To-morrow" by Frances Hodgson Burnett, was given by 
Miss Morgan in Davis Hall, Tuesday evening, May 7. We were glad of 
the opportunity to hear Miss Morgan, for up to this time we had seen her 
talent only through her excellent coaching of the class plays. The audience 
applauded the recital enthusiastically, and Miss Morgan very generously 
gave several encores, including "Carry On" by Robert W. Service. 

It was a great pleasure on Saturday afternoon, May 11, to have Professor 
John Mason Tyler of Amherst speak to us again. In his talk on "Our Rela- 
tion to our Surroundings" he told us that the word "surrounding" spells 
opportunity for most of us, and that the effect which our environment has 
upon us shapes the course of our lives. He was also the speaker at the Sun- 
day evening service. Professor Tyler's little visit to Abbot is one of 
pleasant things we look forward to in the spring. 


On the 9th of February we had with us again the Boston String Quartet. 
We always look forward to their annual visit to Abbot with great pleasure, 
for the members of the String Quartet are musicians in the highest sense of 
the word. The selections they played were beautiful. The Beethoven Quar- 
tet in G Major was magnificent and the 'Cello Obligato of Chopin's was 
exquisitely interpreted. 



It was our good-fortune on the 28th of February to be given a song recital 
by Mr. Arthur Hackett, who was accompanied by Mrs. Hackett (Miss Con- 
stance Freeman), at the piano. Any one who has heard Mr. Hackett sing 
is not likely to forget it soon. His voice is clear and powerful, and marvel- 
lously under his control — his technique is excellent, and the choice of selec- 
tions good. The songs were for the most part in English, a fact which is always 
more or less pleasing to school-girls, and there were also some exquisite French 
songs. Mrs. Hackett is a skilled pianist. Taken altogether the recital was 

A concert we heartily enjoyed was that given by the Glee Club the night 
of April 25th for the benefit of the Surgical Dressings Fund. In their spotless 
white sailor suits and caps and with their faces wreathed in smiles, the mem- 
bers of the Glee Club that night were a joy to behold. And their songs! Well, 
we just wish you all could have heard those plaintive darky airs and the thrill- 
ing patriotic songs — and when the concert closed with the singing of the 
Star-Spangled Banner, we felt, indeed, that it was one of the most pleasant 
evenings of the term. 

On the afternoon of April 27th there was a very interesting and highly 
successful concert in Davis Hall given by the Violin and Violoncello depart- 
ments, assisted by Esther Milliken as Soprano, and Ethel Dixon as accom- 
panist. The Abbot String Quartet was encored again and again, the singing 
was lovely, and the audience was very enthusiastic about each number on 
the program. 

May 4th, we were given a concert by the vocal pupils of Miss Mabel Ben- 
nett, assisted by a few of Prof. Ashton's piano and organ pupils. The after- 
noon was a great success indeed and everyone enjoyed it. The girls sang 
and played beautifully, and one number with a violin obligato was especially 

A recital to which we looked forward with great anticipation and which 
realized our expectations was that given by Miss Gates with her violin, ac- 
companied by Miss Nichols at the piano. Miss Gates plays beautifully with 
a firm touch and an extensive knowledge of technique, and the selections 
were spirited and full of tone-color. We all enjoyed every bit of the recital, 
and hope we'll have the pleasure of hearing again next year Miss Gates and 
her fine accompanist, Miss Nichols. 

On the afternoon of May 18th, we were entertained very pleasantly in 
Davis Hall by the members of the First Year Vocal Expression Class and by a 
few of Prof. Ashton's pupils at the piano and at the organ. The selections 
were taken from the beloved poets of our childhood, Eugene Field and Robert 
Louis Stevenson, and were charmingly given. The musical selections were 
appropriate to the occasion and very lovely. It was one of the most pleasing 
recitals of the year. 




The Senior Middle Class presented "The Twig of Thorn" by Marie Josephine 
Burr, in Davis Hall, Tuesday evening, February 12. 
The Cast: — 

NESSA TEIG Jennie Marr Dunaway 

MAURY A, her neighbor Marian Nichols 

OONAH, Nessa's granddaughter Ruth Alley 

ANGUS ARANN, a young peasant Mildred Coleman 

AILEEL, a wandering poet Helen Wygant 

FATHER BRIAN, the priest Charlotte Copeland 

A FAERY CHILD Helen Leffingwell 

FINULA Marion Chandler 

KATHLEEN Marea Blackford 

SHEILA Natalie Proudfit 

SHEAMUS Ruth Hathaway 

MART I N Eleonore Taylor 

TUMAS Louise Clement 

DIRECTED BY: Bertha Everett Morgan 

STAGE MANAGER: Katharine S. Coe 


Synopsis of Play 

Oonah, the orphan granddaughter of Nessa, comes to live with the latter 
in her little cottage in the country when her married sister moves away from 
Dublin. One day when out walking she loses her way and is brought home 
by the peasant Angus. Nessa and an old neighbor Maurya, see that Oonah 
is wearing a twig of pink thorn in her hair. They cry out saying that the 
"little people" will work evil and that the thorn tree at the Three Roads 
brings a curse. Oonah pretends to throw it away. Father Brian rebukes 
Nessa for her lack of faith, as the blessed St. Bridget is in the room, and says 
that the child did not mean to do anything wrong. Angus falls in love with 
Oonah the minute he sees her. Oonah hides the twig behind St. Bridget. 
When neighbors are at the cottage dancing, Aileel, a wandering poet comes in. 
He loves Oonah instantly and soon demands that she choose between Angus 
and him. She takes Angus. Angus goes away to win his fortune. Nessa 
dies. There is a great famine. Aileel comes to Oonah once more. Angus 
finally returns but he says he cannot stay as he must earn some money. Oonah 
begs him to live in the cottage and use her money. He refuses. To save Oonah 
from the "little people," Aileel carries the thorn and takes the curse upon 
himself, promising to go with them at sunset, if they will spare Oonah. A 
fairy enters and casts rose petals and a spell over Oonah, while Aileel and 
Angus are in the room, but the former's sacrifice saves her. Oonah is dazed 
and does not know what has happened. Aileel makes Angus promise to 
marry her immediately and asks Oonah to dance with him first at her wedding. 
She promises. Angus picks up his pack and finds it heavy with silver pieces. 
They are married and Oonah dances with Aileel. 

Ruth Alley was a very charming and lovely Oonah. She seemed like a 
fairy herself in the interpretation of the Irish maid whom the poet Aileel 



compared to all out-doors and whom the simple peasant, Angus, loved for her 
sweet beauty. 

Angus Arann, the young peasant lover of Oonah, was delightfully played 
by Mildred Coleman. 

The part of Xessa Teig, Oonah's grandmother, was taken by Jennie Marr 
Dunaway with unusual success. 

Marian Nichols was a very realistic Maurya, Xessa's sympathetic neighbor. 
Helen Wygant was Aileel, the wandering poet, who loved Oonah because she 
reminded him of out-of-doors, the moon, the pine tree and the brook. 

Miss Morgan's kindness in coaching "The Twig of Thorn" and her tireless 
efforts in making it a success, were deeply appreciated by the Senior Middle 
Class. A bouquet of roses, tied with silver ribbon, forming the class colors, 
was presented to her in appreciation. 

Two posters were sold between the acts for the benefit of the Surgical 
Dressings Fund. 

Three plays, written by members of the English V Class, were presented in 
Davis Hall, in February, for the benefit of the Italian Red Cross. 
The Curtain Raiser — "Much Labor Lost" — By Virginia Vincent 
The Cast : 

PEGGY, President of the Club • Eleonore Taylor 

BETTY \ w . . . Edna Dixon 

^ T „ >Members ot the Club _ _ 

TLTTLE J Ethel Dtxon 

JACK Hope Allen 

DICK Ruth Hathaway 

JIM Louise Colby 

A MAID Irene Atwood 

"Much Labor Lost" was a clever farce, a take-off on the popular fad of 

dieting. The parts of the three girls were played with great success by Eleanore 

Taylor, Edna and Ethel Dixon. Hope Allen, Ruth Hathaway and Louise 

Colby made irresistible boys. 

"Off Again, On Again" — By Katherine Pinckney 

The Cast: 

JACK WAKALEE (President of Delta Phi) Natalie Weed 

TOM DARCEY" Martha Grace Miller 

•DUTCH" STEVENS Virginia McCalley 

JUNE BARKLEY Sally Bartlett 

'•OWL" RICHMOND (a bookworm) Katharine Coe 

MR. FAY*, (coach) Kathreen Noyes 

BARBARA FAY (his daughter) Elizabeth Doolin 

The difficulties encountered by the Delta Phi fraternity in giving their 
cherished play and Tom Darcey's fear that "Gwendolyn," might be disap- 
pointed furnished the theme for "Off Again, On Again." The trouble over 
the play brought Jack Wakalee and Barbara Fay, once very much in love 
with each other, into unwilling co-operation in making the play a success. 
In "doing their bit" as lovers in the fraternity play, they realize that they 



aren't just acting, much to their own surprise and that of Jack's fraternity 

"Crossed Wires" — By Mary Davis 


BETH PARKHURST, his daughter Dorothy Bushnell 

"BUNNY" PARKHURST, his son Katherine Pinckney 

MARIE ALLEN Margaret Clark 

BERT THURSTON Elizabeth Armstrong 

MR. FOX Geraldine Murray 

The complications of "Crossed Wires" were skilfully unravelled by Kath- 
erine Pinckney as "Bunny", and Sally Eddy, the politically-inclined Mr. 
Parkhurst. Dorothy Bushnell was a very sweet and attractive Beth Park- 
hurst, capable of managing both of her lovers, Mr. Fox, and Bert Thurston. 
The role of Marie Allen, "Bunny's" choice of fair women, was well played by 
Margaret Clark. 

The Spanish Department presented a "Velada Espanola" in Davis Hall, 
Tuesday evening, March 12, for the benefit of the Girls' School in Madrid. 
An unusual feature of the entertainment was the selling of molasses 
candy, Mexican style, between the acts. Hot chocolate with whipped cream 
and sandwiches were served later. 

Miss Mathews deserves much credit and appreciation for the time and 
thought spent on the Velada. It was due to her efforts that the evening was a 
success. All the girls in the Spanish classes took part in the dances, the 
folk songs and the best known poems in the language. An orchestra com- 
posed of girls who are not in the Spanish department played the accom- 
paniments and selections during the intermission. 


For the first time in a number of years the Seniors presented a Shakes- 
pearean play, "As You Like It." The play was given Tuesday evening, 
April 23d, Shakespeare's birthday. Without doubt the performance was 
the best that has ever been given at Abbot. As someone said, "It was as 
though they were making a new play, which no one had ever seen before." 
Every part was well taken, so well in fact, that the play stands on its own 
merits, without the beautiful costumes and the music, which were in them- 
selves lovely. To Miss Morgan is due much of the credit for the success and 
the finished effect of the performance. 

Mildred Greenough as Rosalind interpreted the part exquisitely, and we 
found ourselves, with Phebe, loving her Ganymede. Orlando, Rosalind's 
passionate lover, who hung amorous sonnets to her on the trees in the forest 
of Arden, was Margaret Morris, who took the difficult part in a remarkably 
comprehending manner. Louise Bacon as Celia had an individual charm 
and a sympathetic understanding of her cousin's misfortunes. Touchstone, 
the connecting link between the characters, Katherine Pinckney, tripped her 
way through the Forest of Arden and into the hearts of the audience. Dorothy 
Stalker as Oliver, Irene Atwood as Jaques, Helen Robertson as Old Adam, 



and Elizabeth Doolin, who played the part of Audrey, the country wench, are 
all deserving of a great deal of praise for their performance. 
The Cast: 

DUKE, living in exile Natalie Weed 

FREDERICK, his brother and usurper of his dominions Virginia Vincent 

Marion Hubbard 

Lords attending upon the exiled Duke 

LE BEAU, a Courtier 
CHARLES, a Wrestler 
ADAM, servant of Oliver 

WILLIAM, a country fellow in love with Audrey 

ROSALIND, daughter to the exiled Duke 

CELIA, daughter to Frederick 

PHEBE, a Shepherdess 

AUDREY, a country Wench 


Irene Atwood 
Dorothy Stalker 
Catherine McReynolds 
Margaret Morris 
Katharine Righter 
KAthkrins Pivckney 
Marion McPherson 
Martha Gr\ce Miller 
Mako&KBT Sheer 
Helen Robertson 
Velma Rowell 
Mildred Greenouch 
Louise Bacon 
Dorothy Bushnell 
Elizabeth Doolin 
Ruth Farrington 

^telb Day 

Field Day this year was held on Wednesday, May 22. On account of 
the discontinuance of the Riding School and the lessons in Archery, these 
sports were missing from the day's program, which, however, was even more 
interesting than usual because of the contest for Military Honors. In the 
morning the hockey game was played between the Senior-Middlers and the 
two lower classes on one side, and the Seniors and Junior-Middlers on the 
other. The game was a close and exciting one. Towards the latter part 
the Senior-Middlers and their supporters made two goals in close succession, 
an advantage which their opponents were unable to overcome. The game 
came to an end with the score 2 to 0. 

A tennis tournament was held at two o'clock, the finals being played be- 
tween Betty Wright and Louise Clement. The sets were 6 to 2, 6 to 3, and 
were won by Betty Wright. This was followed by Military Drill at half 
past three. There were quite a number of spectators present when the 
command was given to "Fall in." The two companies were first reviewed by 
Major Davy and the staff. Then the contest began, Company A taking 
the field under the command of Captain Holmes. They went through the 
regular drill, comprising all the movements which the Abbot Battalion had 
taken up to that time. They were followed by Company B, commanded by 
Captain Coe. Although both companies did so well that the decision was 
a difficult one, the judge, Captain Peck, decided in favor of Company B. 

Honor A's were given this year to Katharine Coe, Kathreen Noyes and 
Elinor Sutton. 



military Drill 

The fact that we had started military drill at Abbot was mentioned in the 
last number of The Courant. We hoped then that by June we might have 
accomplished something along that line, and indeed, we feel we have, for to- 
day we have the Abbot Battalion. 

Given below are the names of the commissioned and non-commissioned 

Major of the Battalion — Miss Whiting 

Major Davy's Staff — Miss Marceau and Miss Pickering 

Captain Adjutant of the Battalion — Jane Holt 

Company A 
Captain — Elizabeth Holmes 
1st Lieut. — Edith Page 
2d Lieut. — Catherine McReynolds 
1st Sergeant — Leonore Wickersham 
Rl. Guide of Co. — Elizabeth Hartel 
Left Guide of Co. — Grace Leyser 

Left Guide of 1st Plat. — Grace Francis Left Guide of 1st Plat 
Rl. Guide of 2nd Plat. — Frances Sutro Rt. Guide of 2nd Plat 

Company B 
Captain — Katharine Coe 
1st Lieut. — Virginia McCauley 
2d Lieut. — Elizabeth Newton 
1st Sergeant — Elizabeth Armstrong 
Rl. Guide of Co. — Muriel Johnson 
Left Guide of Co. — Catherine Greenough 
R. Hathaway 
Helen French 

Corporals — Natalie Weed 
Edith Adams 
Louise Stilwell 
Dorothy Korst 
Louise Bacon 
Helen Walker 
Elisabeth Luce 

Corporals — Gretchen Brown 
Avalita Howe 
Martha Grace Miller 
Virginia Vincent 
Mary Bushnell 
Helen Wygant 
Grace Cowan 

fjonor HoII 

FIRST SEMESTER — February, 1918 

Margaret Speer 93 

Emma vail. Luce, Kathreen Noyes, Julia Abbe 92 

Constance Ling, Elinor Sutton 91 
Louise Colby, Elizabeth Sjostrom, Elisabeth Luce, Helen Walker, 

Dorothy Lauder 90 
Mary Jepherson, Martha Grace Miller, Katharine Coe, Helen Wy- 
gant, Margaret Clark, Dorothea Flagg, Dorothy Moxley 89 
Irene Atwood, Avalita Howe, Margaret Morris, Gertrude Stark, 

Helen Donald, Faith Williams, Frances Thompson 88 
Third Quarter — April 16, 1918 

Margaret Speer 94 

Julia Abbe 93 

Emmavail Luce 92 

Kathreen Noyes 91 



Elisabeth Luce, Helen Walker, Elinor Sutton 90 
Irene Atwood, Avalita Howe, Martha Grace Miller, Dorothea Flagg, 

Dorothy Moxley, Frances Thompson 89 
Louise Colby, Elizabeth Armstrong, Katharine Coe, Constance Ling, 

Faith Williams 88 

3tems of (general 3nterest 

Mr. Flagg gave this spring to the classes in Democracy and Civic Re- 
sponsibility two very interesting and helpful talks — one on Insurance and 
one on the Principles of Banking. 

Under Miss Mason's direction a good many of the girls have been making 
surgical dressings on Wednesdays. They have made 4550 dressings alto- 
gether. The total amount raised for the surgical dressings fund was $158.50. 

On Wednesday of the week of the Red Cross drive, three of the girls, Irene 
Atwood, Clarissa Horton and Helen Martin, had a very inspiring and in- 
teresting experience in assisting some of the Andover ladies in collecting 
Red Cross contributions at the Tyer Rubber Factory and Carlisle Cord Com- 

Miss McLean's sister Harriet, who had been ill for nearly a year, died in 
Boston on the 17th of March. Miss McLean and her sister Belle are plan- 
ning to spend the summer in New Hampshire. 

Miss Bixby's mother died very suddenly in March, about a week before the 
Spring vacation. 

A goblet and pitcher were given to Miss Phebe McKeen by her sister, 
Miss McKeen. At her death Miss Philena McKeen gave them to Mrs. Har- 
low, who in turn gave them to Mrs. Fannie Fletcher Parker. The latter 
has now returned them to the school. Also, there is a cut-glass perfumery 
bottle belonging to Miss Phebe McKeen, which was left by Miss McKeen to 
Miss Merrill. At her death it was given to Miss Kelsey, who has added it 
to Mrs. Parker's gift. 

Mrs. Annie Louise Cary has sent to the school a complete edition of the 
works of Honore Balzac. It is an unusually fine leather-bound edition of 
twenty-five volumes. 

Miss Sarah Merrill had bound for the school 34 volumes of modern French 
books which had belonged to Miss Maria S. Merrill. 

The Boston Abbot Club has made the school a present of $15.00. 

The John-Esther Gallery was closed through the winter months because of 
the need for conservation of coal. After it was opened in April, selected 
photographs were exhibited from the large collection recently presented to 
the school by Miss Susanna W. Smith, 1864, sister of Mrs. Esther Smith 
Byers, 1856, donor of the gallery. 

There has been given the school a very interesting picture of the interior 
of the Byers home in New York, showing the pictures now in the John Esther 



Miss Sherman is working this spring on the War Chest Committee of the 
city of Springfield. 

Bertha M. Terrill, a former teacher of Greek at Abbot Academy, now pro- 
fessor of Household Economics at the University of Vermont, is Director of 
Home Economics in Vermont and assistant to the Food Administrator. She 
has travelled about the state, giving addresses on food conservation. 

Dr. George A. Gordon, a former trustee of Abbot Academy, has recently 
published a book of five patriotic sermons preached at the Old South Church, 
Boston. The collection is entitled "The Appeal of the Nation." 

Mrs. Elizabeth Barnett Hitt, a former teacher at Abbot Academy, has two 
sons in the service. Lieutenant Colonel Parker Hitt of the Signal Corps, who 
was, at last accounts, on General Pershing's staff, is a cipher expert. He 
deciphered the highly complex code of a Japanese message in less than an 
hour, "although he knew not one word of the Japanese language or in what 
language the message was written." After the code was deciphered, some 
one else translated the message. The other son, Lawrence, was an architect 
before the war, and is now engaged in camouflage work, with the rank of 
first lieutenant. 

Elizabeth Tyler has just got her Doctor's degree from Columbia L'niversity. 

alumnae IRotee 

The Annual Meeting of the Alumnae Association and the Boston Abbot 
Club on February 8 was of unusual interest. Miss Bailey spoke of the in- 
fluence of the war on the school in various ways and told of the formation of 
the Abbot Patriotic League. Mercer Mason Kemper, who is a daughter 
and a wife of an army officer, spoke from experience of the good work done 
by the regular army in years past and of its influence for good. Evelyn Reed 
Ahern told of her experience in England during three years of war. A message 
of cordial good feeling was brought from the women of England to the women 
of America by Miss Lucy Soulsby, head of an English School for girls. 

At the March Meeting of the Boston Abbot Club, letters were read from 
alumnae in war service, including Miss Jean Jillson, who has now joined the 
Red Cross Relief Unit for Palestine, Mrs. Sara Puffer McCay, who has just 
returned from America to her home in Geneva, and Mrs. Mary Smith Churchill, 
who described a recent air raid in Paris. 

A Roll of Honor, bearing the names of those previously connected with 
Abbot Academy who have been engaged in war work abroad, was prepared 
by Phyllis Brooks, fl915, and was on exhibition at the Alumnae Luncheon in 
February. A card list of alumnae and near relatives, with relatives of present 
students, who are in any kind of war service, over here or over there, has been 
made and will be kept up as far as possible from information received. Ad- 
ditions and changes will be gratefully received by Miss Carpenter. 

The Roll of Honor includes trustees, past and present, former teachers 
and alumnae, and the service varies from Mr. Stackpole's work as chaplain at 
the front, to Red Cross nursing and the care of refugees in France, Palestine 
and Turkey. The list of names follows: Dr. Albert P. Fitch, Rev. M. W. 
Stackpole, Mr. Lester Ful'er, Edith E. Metcalf, Olive Twichell Crawford, 
fl876, Sarah Puffer McCay, fl881, Jean L. Jillson, fl887, Katherine Lahm, 
Parker, 1894, Mary Smith Churchill fl897, Martha L. Blakeslee, U902, 
Mabel O. Fordham, 1904, Elizabeth Deeble, 1906, Winifred Warren, 1914. 
Cornelia Williams, 1905, will soon finish her hospital training for special work 
for disabled men in France. 

1868. It is hoped that the reunion of the fifty-year class will be unusually 
large this year. There are twelve members, and of these Rebecca Davis 
Spalding, Mary A. Spalding, Henrietta Learoyd Sperry and Katherine Chapin 
Higgins are expected and possibly Alice French and others. 



f 1873. Carrie Dana Bennett's son is first lieutenant in the Field Artillery. 

1 1874. Emma Wilder Gutterson's son, Herbert, has a responsible position 
in the purchasing of supplies on Mr. Hoover's staff in Washington, and Wilder 
is in a government munition plant. 

fl878. Henry Blodget Richards, son of Charlotte Blodget Richards, is 
first lieutenant in the Officers' Reserve Corps and is now in a Machine Gun 
Battalion at Camp Devens, Ayer. Her youngest daughter is engaged to 
Captain Bronson of the Coast Artillery. 

fl879. Nellie Barron Brainerd's son John is lieutenant in the regular army 
in France. 

fl881. Margaret Fowle Sears's son Philip, is in the Naval Reserve Force. 

1881. Laura Billings's husband, Prof. Frederic S. Lee, of Columbia 
University, is consulting physiologist to the U. S. Public Health Service, and 
executive secretary of the committee on industrial fatigue of the Council of 
National Defence. He has made an exhaustive study of the conditions under 
which war is making unprecedented demands on industry, and has been 
lecturing on the subject at various colleges. 

1 1882. Lillian Wilcox Miller's son, Lloyd, is in the ambulance service in 
France. At the March meeting of the Boston Abbot Club, a recent letter 
from him was read, giving a thrilling account of a submarine attack which 
occurred on his way across the Atlantic last August, but which the censor had 
not allowed him to mention before. 

1883. Amy Abbot Stevens's daughter, Caroline, after taking a nurse's 
training course in Boston, is in France as Red Cross nurse's aid. Her work 
will be for refugee children. Abbot and Dale, the two sons, are in the service, 
Abbot as inspector of army supplies, with rank of captain, Dale a first lieuten- 
ant in the army. 

fl887. Emma Twitchell Sturgis's son, William, is in the Railway En- 
gineers Corps, Camp Grant. 

1890. Agnes Smith Stackpole has been most active in Red Cross work in 
Andover. She is chairman of the Surgical Dressings committee, and a mem- 
ber of the Civilian Relief Committee. Her husband has been in France since 
September as Chaplain of the 102d Field Artillery. 

fl894. Ethelyn Marshall Cross's husband, Rev. Allen E. Cross, has written 
two hymns, published in the Congregationalist, which have been much in 
demand for use in patriotic services. 

fl894. Mabel Bosher Scudder's address has been changed to 16 Tsukiji, 
Tokyo, Japan. 

fl895. Lucy Talcott, May Churchill Talcott's older daughter, has an 
interesting story "Jocelyn" in the February, 1918, number of the Radcliffe 



fl897. Mary Smith Churchill's husband, Lieutenant Colonel Marlborough 
Churchill, has been ordered to Washington. He returned from France in 
May and was followed in early June by Mrs. Churchill and Mollie. 

fl897. Mr. Frank L. Quinby, husband of Frances Hinkley, has gone to 
France as athletic instructor in one of the camps. 

fl898. At a recent educational conference held at Teachers College, Col- 
umbia, Sara Patrick was leader of a discussion on the Project Method in 
Teaching. She has been teaching in the department of Industrial Arts at 
Teachers' College since 1911. 

1898. Dr. Claude M. Fuess, husband of Elizabeth Goodhue, has been 
appointed by the Secretary of War Director of Personnel in the Quartermaster 
Corps, one of the twelve administrative branches at Camp Joseph E. Johnston, 
Jacksonville, Florida. I 

fl901. Delight W. Hall is teaching at Miss Lee's School for young girls 
in Boston. 

1901. Helen Whittemore is a Red Cross nurse at Camp Wheeler, Macon, 

fl902. Martha L. Blakeslee sailed in April for France. She plans to stay 
for a year as a canteen worker for the Y. M. C. A. Her address is 12 rue 
d'Aguesseau, Paris. Cr. Y. M. C. A. 

1903. Rose Thomson Pratt's husband, Dr. Joseph H. Pratt, has been in 
the medical service at Ayer, with the rank of Major. He was first at the 
head of the hospital and later examiner for tuberculosis, with ten doctors 
under him. 

|1905. Frances W. Cutler, who has been teaching at Vassar for three 
years, has resigned her position and will be at home next year. She has 
recently written a series of articles for the revised Encyclopedia Americana, 
and contributed to various magazines. Her brother, George Ripley Cutler, 
is in the ambulance service in France, and has recently received the Croix 
de Guerre from the French Government. They are the children of Sarah 
Ripley, |1880, and grandchildren of Mary Aiken, 1854. 

fl905. Katherine Woods has been distinguishing herself by some special 
articles for the New York Times, one of which was a write-up of the Hog 
Island situation. 

fl906. Evaline Korn has been teaching surgical dressings for the Red 
Cross in her home town, Middletown, N. Y. 

fl906. Persis Maclntire of Worcester has taken the teachers' course for 
surgical dressings, and has taught the use of the knitting machines, being one 
of the assistants in charge. 

|1907. Laura Howell has been studying at the School of Philanthropy 
in New York and working for the B. S. degree at Teachers' College. 

fl907. Gertrude Lefevre (Vassar 1911), is teaching in Leroy, N. Y. 



fl908. Anna Howell is at Ossining, N. Y., engaged in social work under 
the government. 

f 1908. Edith Gutterson has opened a Tunic Craft Shop in Chicago, where 
she will design gowns on the principle devised by her sister, Constance Gut- 
terson Taylor. She has been living in Chicago with Mr. and Mrs. Douglas 
Crawford (Frances Tyer). 

1908. Helen Buss has been taking the Home Nursing Course at the 
Massachusetts General Hospital, and has placed her name on the list of 
workers for the government when needed for visiting out-patients. 

fl910. Mira Wilson has graduated this May from the School of Theology 
of Boston University. She took a leading part in the class day exercises in 
March. Her degree is Bachelor of Sacred Theology. 

1 19 10. Clarissa Hall's brother, Gordon, is in the gas defence service in 
France, with rank of sergeant of the first class. He is engaged in the im- 
portant work of repairing gas masks. 

1910. Helen Corey Briggs's husband is petty officer in the Naval Reserve 

1911. Elizabeth Hincks graduated from Vassar last year, and has been at 
home in Cambridge, studying to be a clinical psychologist. She has been 
doing practical work at the Psychopathic Hospital and taking courses in 
Psychiatry at the Harvard Medical School. 

fl911. Corinne Willard is doing work for the Red Cross. She has taken 
the course in Surgical Dressings and is now teaching a class. 

1912. Helen Bowman writes that she has been in the Associated Charities 
work in Muncie this winter. Her father died on May 25th, after a short illness. 

fl9 13. Enid Baush's husband, Ralph Patterson, is Regimental Sergeant 
Major of the 301st Infantry at Camp Devens. 

1 19 13. Marion Gould Smith's husband has recently gone to France in 
the aviation service. His rank is second lieutenant. 

|1913. Jane Newton Sheldon's husband is in the Aviation Corps. 

1913. Mary Erving and Beatrice Temple were bridesmaids at Eva Er- 
ving's wedding in March. The wedding march was played by Edith Johnson. 

1913. Ruth Jenkins's husband, Carl A. Billings, is a first lieutenant. He 
is in France, training men in an officers' school. 

1913. Emma E. Holt has received an appointment in the office of the 
Treasury Department at Washington. 

fl9 14. Mildred Home has been teaching this winter in Bangor, Maine. 
She lives now in Derry, New Hampshire, where her father is principal of 
Pinkerton Academy. 

fl9 14. Gladys Higgins is instructor in French and German in the Union 
High School of Arlington. 



1 1914. Lucretia Lowe was among the honor students at RadclifTe this 
year and was made a member of the Phi Beta Kappa. She has received a 
"Magna." She is in the graduating class at RadclifTe, as are Elsie Gleason 
and Lillian Conroy. 

1 1914. From Smith College there are three to be graduated, Elisabeth, 
Bartlett, Mary Harsh and Katharine Selden. Alice Sweeney and Dorothy 
Bond graduate from Vassar. 

fl914. Frances Jones has been studying at a business college in Portland, 

tl9 14. Margaret Blake is teaching in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the 
same school as Alice Harsh, fl913. 

fl914. Martha Lamberton has been spending the winter with her mother 
in San Diego, California. 

fl914. While her husband, Captain Keene Kirkpatrick, is with his com- 
pany at Camp Sherman, Louise Allaman Kirkpatrick and her little daughter, 
Nancy, are staying with Louise's father and mother in Dayton. 

1914. Susan C. Flynn graduated last June from the Bridgewater Normal 
School, and has been teaching in the Kindergarten at Deerfield. 

1914. Mary Flynn is to work this summer under the Massachusetts 
Farm and Garden Association with a unit formed of girls from Miss Whee- 
lock's Kindergarten Training School. 

fl915. Esther Sheldon Shinn is an instructor in her old school in New 
Haven, teaching swimming and tennis, and besides has three private classes 
in gymnastics and gives individual lessons in aesthetic and interpretive danc- 

fl915. Phyllis Brooks has left college and has been staying at home in 
Andover this winter. She and Eleanor Bartlett have worked hard on surgical 

fl915. Marion Barnard is assistant librarian in the public library at Wal- 
pole, Massachusetts. 

fl916. Eugenia Parker has been captain of a troop of Girl Scouts in Win- 
chester this year and has enjoyed taking charge of their war work. 

fl916. Agnes Grant has won at Smith College the much-coveted "S" 
sweater, which is given for high academic standing and good attitude in 

fl916. Vera Allen is graduating from Miss Wheelock's School in Boston. 
She has been taking a course in story telling with Miss Shedlock. Most 
of her work, however, is practice work and she teaches in kindergarten 
and in the first grade in a private school in Maiden. 

fl916. Mrs. Henry Weber, mother of Miriam Weber and of Helen Weber 
Mitchell, died suddenly at her home in Canton on the 13th of May. 



fl916. In May, Mildred Jenkins was graduated from the Domestic Science 
course at Drexel Institute in Philadelphia. She is to be at the Women's Edu- 
cational and Industrial Union in Boston in July, and will be dietitian in a Y. W. 
C. A. Camp at Lake George in August. 

fl917. Sally Humason is on the board of editors of the Freshman paper at 
Vassar, The Sampler, and has contributed several stories to it. 

1917. Elizabeth Willson is studying color and design at the School of 
Industrial Arts in Trenton. 

fl917. Elizabeth Bacon has been since April acting office-secretary of the 
Albany Y. W. C. A. 


Norma Allen, fl915, Marion Brooks, fl915, Marion Willson, 1917, Harriet 
Balfe, fl917, Frances Gere, fl917, Ruth Jackson, |1917, Sarah Cushing, 
fl915, Marion Barnard, tl916, Josephine Tonner, 1915, Mary Church, 
jl917, Clara Dore Robinson, 1913, Eva Smith, fl909, Esther Davis, fl917, 
Jane Patteson, 1916, Olga Erickson Tucker, fl913, Lois Erickson, fl917, 
Ruth Moore, 1916, Mrs. Edith Croll Brown, 1892, Phyllis Brown, 1917, 
Mrs. Mary Churchill Talcott, fl895, Esther Kilton, tl916, Dorothy Pillsbury, 
fl916, Sylvia Gutterson, fl916, Miss Titcomb, Miss Elliott, Mrs. Louise 
Lawrence Reynolds, Elizabeth Allen, fl913, Elisabeth Bartlett, fl914, Agnes 
Grant, fl916, Josephine Walker, fl916, Alice Littlefield, fl917, Janet Davis, 
fl917, Dorothy Bennett, 1913, Gertrude Goss, fl917, Charlotte Fleming, 


fl910. Dora E. Heys to Mr. Arthur F. Pym, formerly of Detroit, now of 

fl913. Mary L. Erving to Mr. Carl N. Lindsay, of Andover. He is in 
Battery F, 102d Field Artillery, in France. 

1913. Ella Augusta Stohn to Mr. Douglass D. Getchell of Minneapolis, 
at present stationed at Base Hospital, No. 26, at Fort McPherson, Georgia. 

1913. Helen Marion Symmes to Dr. Norman Paul Hersam. 

1913. Janet Nevius to Mr. Frederick Curtis of Wilmington, Delaware. 

1913. Hertha Fletcher to John Howe Field, Jr. of Buffalo, New York. 

1914. Harriette Woolverton to Mr. John Snow Nelson, son of Bishop 
Nelson of Albany. He has been with the Y. M. C. A. at Spartanburg, but 
expected soon to sail for France. 

tl915. Eleanor Wilder Bartlett to Mr. David H. Atwater of New York 
and Westhampton, Long Island. Mr. Atwater recently returned from 
ambulance service in France. 

tl915. Esther Sheldon Shinn to Mr. Bertrand B. Salzman. 



1 19 16. Sylvia Gutterson to Mr. Philip Clifton Pearson, Harvard 1919, 
of Round Hill, Greenwich, Connecticut. He enlisted in the United States 
Naval Reserves before the outbreak of the war, and is now attached to the 
naval attachment of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. 


Campagna-Pinto — D'a La Brecque. — In New York City, April 2, 1918, 
Mile. Corinne D'a La Brecque to Sig. Dante Leonardo Campagna-Pinto. 
At home 26 Maple Avenue, Cambridge. 

1892. Winslow— Crocker— At Tufts College, April 27, 1918, Josephine 
Davis Crocker to Mr. Francis A. Winslow, vice-president of the Carolina 
Shipbuilding Company, Wilmington, N. C. Mr. Winslow has other busi- 
ness in Chicago, but will live for the present in New York City, where Mrs. 
Winslow has been active for some time in Red Cross work. 

1898. Green — Keese. — In Ashburnham, February 26, 1918, Marion Ash- 
ton Keese to Mr. Henry Durell Green. 

1906. Russell — Kimball. — In Covington, Ct., Carita Lillia Kimball to 
Lecky Harper Russell, M.D., now in the 147th Field Hospital Corps of the 
National Guard, Camp Sheridan, Montgomery, Ala. 

fl910. Bain— Flynn.— In New York City, April 27, 1918, Edith Honore 
Flynn to Ensign Joseph Andrew Bain, of Lawrence. 

1911. Bevington — Erving. — In Andover, March 27, 1918, Eva Abbott 
Erving to Mr. Ralph Walwork Bevington. At home, 64 Hillside Avenue, 

1912. Smith — Skolfield. — In Brunswick Maine, March 16, 1918, Frances 
Eliza Skolfield to Mr. Lawrence Willey Smith, Lieutenant United States 
National Army. 

fl915. Sharp — Cushing. — In Andover, March 30, 1918, Sarah Whitney 
Cushing to Mr. Arthur Eugene Sharp. 

fl915. Lowes — Winklebleck. — In Chicago, April 25, 1918, Marion Wesley 
Winklebleck to Mr. Walter Peverall Lowes, 107th U. S. Infantry. 


1907. In Belmont, January 27, 1918, a son, Edward Hollis, Jr., to Mr. 
and Mrs. Edward Hollis Temple (Margaret B. Millett). 

1908. In Andover, April 25, 1918, a son, Kellogg, Jr., to Mr. and Mrs. 
Kellogg Boynton (Marion Lewis). 

1913. In Lynn, May 12, 1918, a daughter, Patricia Honors, to Mr. and 
Mrs. T. C. Johnson, 2nd (Katharine K. Gilbert). 

fl915. In Roslindale, September 12, 1917, a daughter, Gertrude Peters, 
to Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Peters Whittemore (Mattie C. Larrabee). 

fl916. In New York City, March 11, 1918, a son, Carlos Sword, to Mr. 
and Mrs. Carlos Rodriquez, (Lillian Sword). 




|1855. In Andover, May 12, 1918, Ellen E. Peabody. Miss Peabody 
and Mrs. Wilbur were the only members of the first class formally graduated 
from the school. Three years ago they celebrated their sixtieth anniversary. 

fl855. In Andover, March 16, 1918, Rebecca Merrill, wife of the late 
Rev. Henry R. Wilbur. She was the author of numerous stories and books 
for children. Her daughter, Caroline, graduated in 1895. 

1857. In Framingham, January 29, 1918, Eliza M. Millett, formerly of 

1858. In Brewster, February 7, 1918, Emily C. Cobb. 
1858. In New York City, March 2, 1918, Mary Jane Swift. 

1864. In Auburndale, April 17, 1918, Angeline C. Blaisdell, for many 
years Treasurer of Lasell Seminary. 

1864. In Springfield, April 4, 1918, Amy Morton, wife of the late Wil- 
liam Charnley. She was one of five Andover sisters, all students at Abbot 
Academy. Judge Marcus Morton, formerly president of the Board of Trustees, 
is a brother. 

1878. In Chelsea, October 5, 1916, Caroline B. Stickney. 

1889. In La Jolla, Cal., January 8, 1918, Grace I. Penfield, wife of Rev. 
Henry H. Went worth. 

1900. In Haverhill, March 24, 1918, Bertha Gage, wife of Edwin A. 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, B.S., Principal 

Psychology, Ethics, Theism, Christian Evidences 
KATHERINE R. KELSEY, Assistant Principal 




History and English 

Literature and History of Art 





History and Biology. Librarian 







Spanish and Latin 

Assistant in Science 

Physical Education 

Household Science 

Vocal Expression 

♦On leave of absence 1917-1918. 




Rhythmic Expression 

Chorus Music, Piano, Organ and Harmony, History of Music 

Vocal Music 




Assistant to Mr. Ashton 

Drawing and Painting 


Secretary to the Principal 

Supervisor of Day Scholars' Room 

In charge of Draper Hall 

Resident Nurse 

Keeper of Alumnae Records 















ScHool Organizations 

A. C. A. 

President Clarissa Horton 

Vice-President Mariha Grace Miller 

Secretary . . . . . . . Cora Erickson 

Treasurer Dorothy Stalker 

Representative Committee of Student Council 

Louise Stilwell 
Ruth Eaton 
Martha Grace Miller 
Louise Robinson 

Marion McPherson 
Clarissa Horton 
Louise Bacon 
Elisabeth Luce 

Fidelio Society 

Secretary and Treasurer 

Irene Atwood 
Dorothy Williams 
Ruth Farrington 


Katherine Pinckney 
Helen French 
Elizabeth Doolin 
Louise Stilwell 
Louise Bacon 

Julie Sherman 
Mildred Frost 
Kathreen Noyes 
Elisabeth Luce 
Virginia Vincent 

Athletic Association 


Marion McPherson 
Katherine Hamblet 
Helen Vedder 
Ruth Eaton 

Clee Club 


Dorothea Clark 
Esther Milliken 


Hochey Team 

Marion McPherson 
Katherine Hamblet 

Class Organizations 

Senior '18 

President Louise Bacon 

Vice-President / Ruth Eaton 

Secretary Dorothea Clark 

Treasurer Natalie Weed 

Class Motto: "Ad astra per aspera." 
Class Flower: Yellow Rose Class Colors: Yellow and White 

Senior Middle, '19 

President ....... Kathreen No yes 

Vice-President Margaret Langenbacher 

Secretary Marea Blackford 

Treasurer Ethel Bonney 

Class Motto: "Duty, Service, and Sacrifice" 
Class Flower: Ros • Class Colors: Rose and Silver 

President . 

Junior Middle, '20 

Louise Robinson 

Helen Vedder 

Mary Bushnell 

Helen Walker 

Class Flower: "American Beauty Rose" 
Class Colors: Dark Green and White 


Juniors, '21 

Ethel Dixon 
Elizabeth Weld 
Mildred Fuller 
Helen Wright 

Alumnae Association 



Mrs. Elizabeth Nichols Bean Mrs. Ellen Chamberlain Blair 

Mrs. Josephine Richards Gile Mrs. Laura Barron Brainerd 

Mrs. Rebecca Davis Spalding Miss Josephine Wilcox 

Miss Emily A. Means 

Secretary and Treasurer 
Miss Agnes Park 
Committee on Appropriations 

Miss Bertha Bailey 

Miss Agnes Park 




June 11, Tuesday School year ends 

Summer Vacation 

September 18, Boarding Students register before 7 p.m. 

September 19, Thursday, 9 a.m. Fall term begins 

November 28, Thursday Thanksgiving Day 

December 19, Thursday, 12 M. Fall term ends 

Christmas Vacation 


January 8, Boarding Students register before 6 P.M. 

January 9, Thursday, 9 a.m. Winter term begins 

February 1, Saturday First semester ends 

February 3, Monday Second semester begins 

March 20, Thursday, 12 m. Winter term ends 

Spring Vacation 

April 2, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 

April 3, Thursday, 9 a.m. Spring term begins 

June 10, Tuesday School year ends 


The War has changed most everything, 

But for us here at school 
The biggest change that has come this year 

Is the use of the garden tool. 

We may not know Geometry, 

Nor understand our French, 
But — Ah! — We do know how to mow, 

And to dig a potato trench. 

Compliments of 



T. F. MORRISSEY & SON, Prowietors 


Expressing and Jobbing 

Carriages and Hacks for Funerals, Weddings and Receptions 
Depot Work a Specialty 


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Goods Stored, Packed and Shipped 


Please Mention Abbot Academy When Purchasing 

We don old clothes and out we go, 

Ready to do or die, 
We toil and grunt, we do many a stunt 

That cause us a long-drawn sigh — 

But we're helping 'tis said, though we don't see it now! 

We're glad because that's what we're for. 
We're working for Abbot, but above Abbot's name 

We're working to help win this War. 

D. F. 

Reid & Hughes Company 

We Specialize on 

Ladies' Ready-to-wear Goods 
Full Line of Outer and Under Garments 
Ribbons, Laces, Millinery and -Art Goods 

We Cheerfully Refund Money When Our Merchandise 
Does Not Please 



All kinds of FRUIT in their season 



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Sporting and Mufti Dress 

For Every Occasion 
13-15 Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

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One day at drill we did appear 

At the stern call "Fall In." 
We fell and drilled and ray 'twas hot! 

It should have made us thin. 
We righted squads and squaded right, 

Got splinters in our hands, 
The ground did blister our poor feet, 

And Greek seemed the commands. 









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%\)t German ^>tutiio 


is now owned and conducted by 


Your needs in Photographic Work 
of any description will be met 
in a satisfactory manner by this Studio 

Please Mention Abbot Academy When Purchasing 

We right-obliqued and forward marched 

Till we were in a mess. 
We didn't know platoon commands, 

From company, I'll confess. 
We had blind staggers from the heat, 

Ere we finished our parade, 
But just last night we all found out, 

It paid, it surely paid! 

R. C. H. 


Successors to W. F. RUTTER & CO. 

Steam, Water & Gas Piping 
Supplies and Tools 



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Telephone 208 

Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

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161 Tremont Street Tel. Beach 858 
164 " " " " 2687 

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UALITY is not merely a matter of 
money and materials. The best equipped 
photographer cannot at any price pro- 
duce anything better than he or his em- 
ployees are trained to do, or than his studio 
is equipped to produce. 

Class Photographer for Abbot Academy 1917 

Please Mention Abbot Academy When Purchasing 


Pharm acist 

* * % m 





Musgrove Bldg., Andover, Mass. 


Kodak and Photo Supplies Expert Bicycle Repairing 

H. F. CHASE -- Andover, Mass. 


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and College 


a Specialty 



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Hairdressing and Shampoo 



Dry Goods and Groceries 

Corner Essex and Central Streets, Andover 

J. H. PLAYDON, Florist 



Store, Arco Building . . . Tel. 105-3 
Greenhouses, Frye Village . Tel. 109-11 

Please Mention Abbot Academy When Purchasing 

Insurance Service 


Insurance Of f ice s 


Indemnity for Every Class 
of Insurance Coverage 

Fire and Life 

Use and Occupancy 

Sprinkler Leakage 





Merchandise in Transit 
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January, 1919 










November 11, 1918 3 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 
To Christopher, My Godson 3 

Lillie Dougall, ex-1884 
To France and Britain 5 

Margaret Clark, 1919 
Between Cigarettes 6 

Paulina Miller, 1920 
The Antique Club 10 

Margaret Clark, 1919 
The Evening Wind 11 

Julia Conant Abbe, 1920 
Then Out Spoke Brave Horatius . . .12 

Gwendolyn Bossi, 1919 
One of the Four Million 14 

Elizabeth Hawkes, 1920 
A Mystery 16 

Sal lie Barllett, 1921 

Reflections in the Warer 17 

Elizabeth Sjostrom, 1919 
Their Christmas Guest 18 

Ellinor Blymyer, 1920 
Freedom 20 

Olive Runner 

The Finger of Progress 21 

Constance Ling, 1920 
Bob- Wire Entanglements 22 

Elenore Taylor, 1919 

Editorials 25 

Faculty Changes 30 

School Journal 33 

Alumnae Notes 51 

The price of the Courant is one dollar a year; single copies fifty cents. 
All communications made to the Business Editors will be promptly attended to. 


Sttrrarg Eittturo 






Vol. XLV JANUARY, 1919 No. I 

Hopember {{, 

The great news came on golden wings of dawn , 
We waited breathless, hands outstretched, 
To grasp that flaming torch to carry on. 

Ruth Hathaway, 1919 

Co Christopher, £TCy <5obson 

A New World 

Child, the old world's clamorous song 

Slowly shall cease. 
God is sending an angel strong; 
Over the angry clouds of war 
Distant she shines like a silver star : 
Her name is Peace. 



See! she is lifting rosy wings 
Out of the night ; 
Singing us songs of future things — 

Singing that forces of earth and air 
Are the only drudges, if men will share 
All hearts' delight. 

Holding for scepter a budding rod. 

She travels amain. 
Because she comes from the hand of God 
Burning with life, in her gentle breath 
Mischief and slackness meet their death, 
Fading in shame. 

Woven her robe of the dear blue sky*. 

Heaven above 
Comes to us when she passes by. 

Men shall look in her star-like eyes. 
Gaining by labour and enterprise 
Conquering love. 

Soon you will grow and understand — 

Boy of my heart! 
God has strengthened the angel's hand 

By the prayers of humble souls who wrought 
For human need, and, wrestling, sought 
The better part. 

Lillie Dougall, ex-1884 
Cutts End, Cumnor, England 

Co prance anb Britain 

O France! you held that line so long, 
Small army though you had, 

Against that deadly German throng. 
With blood and battle mad. 

O France! we to your hardy sons 
Do owe our homes unharmed, 

For all your stalwart men and guns 
Held firm till Britain armed. 

And Britain! to your slate-grey fleet, 

O mistress of the sea, 
We owe our native land's firm seat. 

Our lives and liberty. 

O Britain ! we are loath to say 

That we enjoyed repose 
While you were helping save the day 

And battling deadly foes. 

O France and Britain! you're too high 

To say how late we came 
To do our bit and maybe die. 

But we'll not hide our shame. 

Margaret Clark. 1919 

Between Cigarettes 

Air raids and London were becoming synonymous and common- 
place evidently; at least, people seemed only calm and a bit 
bored over them now. ( Cellars were vastly popular, of course, 
but a panicless, rather weary serenity reigned in them during the 
enforced stay of their motley crowds of transients. All was 
ordered, regular, still, and yet it seemed almost electrically 

Even the desolate and dusty cellar of an abandoned house had 
its share of fugitives the fifth evening running that the Gothas 
came. The light from door and broken windows revealed an 
unconcerned enough group. Here a little Irish servant girl with 
her shawl caught tight against her trembling lips. There a 
passionate -eyed boy poilu with crutches and bits of color on his 
breast. A benign but twittering little scholar, clutching his 
Horace, hat, cane, and spectacles, pattered about. 

But a perfectly groomed young Canadian officer lighting a 
cigarette with shaking fingers was really not so calm. His eyes 
were bewildered and weary, still horror-stricken at the unfor- 
getable scenes brought back by the sounds without. He had 
seen much service, and played his part bravely, but now he was 
sick for the snows and winds of Montreal, and the banks of the 
blue St. Lawrence. He was lithe and big in his spotless khaki, 
there was "swank" in the set of his cap, in his carelessly held 
swagger-stick and gloves. 

Perched on a keg was another transient, a tanned -cheeked 
Tommy Waac, unconcernedly whistling a foxtrot. Faultlessly 
uniformed, smiling, full of poise she was, a trifle bored perhaps, 
her shapely, well-groomed hands tapping each other. Frivolity 
and luxury-loving once, her thin brown face showed her new deep 
joy in giving, and glorified her slang and ragtime. 

The talk was desultory. The blonde young officer, half- 
musingly watching the whistling girl, suddenly laughed. 

"It reminds me — that foxtrot — of down in Quebec one 
summer ■ " He laughed again reminiscently. 

"Tell us," commanded the girl. "It won't be safe outside for 
ages and ■ — we want to — forget." 



"We-e-11," he acquiesced. " Quebec — it's — well, any of you 
been there? No? Well, you've missed it. Fascinatin' little old 
place — full up of historical tablets and things, and old houses, 
and funny little ramblin' streets — like lanes or alleys. My 
people used to go there summers, stayed at a wonderful old house, 
French Canadian, you know, and datin' back to Champlain, I 
guess, or Frontenac. It had four stories, and a marvelous circular 
staircase that wound up without any support to the top floor. 
Had to stop every time I went in, I did, just to look at it. It 
must have been a day dream of some French Canadian architect 
who ought to live forever. Our rooms were palatial — great 
windows and gilt mirrors same size, alternatin' along the drawing- 
room. And old mahogany, and tinkly glass chandeliers, and 
funny old portraits — Champlain, of course, and old Pere Duval. 
It was like livin' in an historical novel, almost. 

" My sisters, of course, and the Mater ran around a lot, teas 
and dances, and things — course this was all before the war — 
with the English people livin' there. Lots of 'em, too, some in 
buLly estates out the Grande Allee, some in town, some 'cross on 
the Isle of Orleans — heavenly place that — all magnificent 
trees — some stayin' at the Chateau Frontenac. Those were 
mostly from the States though. 

"But I, well — that kind o' thing used to bore me rather, and 
I used to moon off a lot by myself. Used to march up and down 
DufTerin Terrace and watch the boats on the St. Lawrence — 
nothin' camouflaged then — or go around the walls and dream 
about their history. Or out at the Plains of Abraham sometimes. 
Always used to kind of like Montcalm — game, he was. The 
French even then — I tell you ! 

** But I liked to fool around the queer little streets down in the 
old part of the town best. It was dirty and smelled to heaven 
generally, and funny little ragged kids runnin' up, pretendin' to 
cry and yellin', 'Pennee, pennee!' all around, but it got hold on 
you somehow; you couldn't keep away ; you just had to explore it. 

"Well, one day I was amblin' along — Cote d'Abraham I 
think it was — anyway, down in the very French part of the 
town. I stopped in front of a shabby little house with an untidy 
yard before it, and a vase of unexpectedly magnificent deep red 



roses in a window. I stopped because of a very high, very true, 
piercingly sweet voice singing that silly bit of ragtime you just 
whistled . 

["Silly?" murmured the young lady. "Well — perhaps.") 

"Then out through the door dashed a rather wonderful Russian 
wolfhound, with a red slipper in his mouth. I gasped — and 
clutched him. The song was interrupted. 1 Oh, ciel !' ejaculated 
the voice. 'Ce chien-la!' and out came running the prettiest 
little scrap of a French girl imaginable. About fifteen she was, 
and dark, and sparkling, and vivid, with tumbled hair and a red 
mouth. I restored the shoe, and she dimpled, and invited me to 
restore the dog, Fifi ('Holy Moses!' I murmured) to the house. 
So I did and thus began a rather fascinating friendship with 
Madamoiselle Jacqueline and her fat and numerous family. 

"My curiosity went wild over the dog and the roses. Why? 
Why? in such a place, among these shabby and improvident 
day-laborers — for such I found them to be. Madame informed 
me promptly. Jacqueline, it seemed, was considered desirable by 
a friend of Monsieur her father, a wealthy man, a widower, and 
they were to be married shortly. But he spoiled the child, M. 
Herbert did, and gave her anything she wished, and Mon Dieu, 
the flighty desires of the little imp ! This almost with tears. But 
Jacqueline's tale was slightly different. M. Herbert was fat, Mr. 
Bobbie (she always called me that), and she was so tired of fat 
people. And Henri Bonnard was so different, but — well, he's 
poor, and of course the Fat One isn't. Eh, bien, French Canadian 
girls marry as they are told. Is it true, Mr. Bobbie, that English 
girls and Americans marry whom they like? 

" I was angry. She was too pretty and young to give to a fat 
old harness-maker. Henri, it seemed, was a young fisherman 
living at Sillery Cove, about seven miles away. Jacqueline 
thought she'd love to sell fish, but not Madame her mother! I 
was interested, and my first sight of M. Herbert made me decide 
to interfere. 

"So I formed a plan — and it made me feel delightfully wicked 
for a week after. Her parents cared only for money, and wished 
to sacrifice Jacqueline for the wealth which would come to them. 
But Henri was different. So one dark night I kidnapped the girl 



— with her giggling consent — popped her into a victoria and off 
to my most sporting sister, who left the next day for the Rockies, 
with a new little French maid in tow. Then I had many con- 
versations with the irate parents and the devoted Henri. One 
considered me a fiend, the other a god. Very gratifying. I had 
an awful time. M. Herbert was wild — I had to newly harness 
all our horses to calm him down at all — the parents wept and 
swore alternately. But Jacqueline was gone, and I finally soothed 
them, by means of gold and greenbacks. 

"Henri waited patiently at Sillery for me to fulfill my promise 
to bring him Jacqueline when my sister returned the next sum- 
mer. But I never did. That was 1914, and so I was elsewhere. 
But Jacqueline arrived, prepaid so to speak, by the sporting 
sister, and was married to Henri before her parents could turn 
around. She has not forgotten Mr. Bobbie, they write me, but I 
have never seen her since. Henri has lost his leg and arm at 
Verdun, and she's a busy little head of the house now, at nineteen 

— an old woman, the French Canadians say — but she still 

Paulina Miller, 1920 

tEt?e Ctnttquc Club 

To begin with, the Historical Society is a society for the pre- 
vention of cruelty to antiques — primarily for inanimate antiques 
although after attending one of their meetings I wondered if 
human beings had not been included in the list. 

Antiques used to mean to me beautiful mahogany furniture, 
some hundred to two hundred years of age, but now — alas! it 
has taken a far different meaning. Rubbish is now to me a 
synonym for antiques. All preconceived ideas of mine have been 
washed away and now, only account books kept nobody knows 
when, by nobody knows who and about nobody knows what, 
iron forks and coffin-plates gathered from anywhere, have taken 
their place. 

At each meeting a few more uninteresting objects raked from 
under somebody's attic eaves are presented and duly praised, 
and past histories invented by the donors. People actually get 
together and admire, as beautiful, crude paintings illustrating a 
family history. For instance, the first represents the marriage, 
the second the family, mother, father and daughter, walking 
sedately to church, and lastly the widow seated under a weeping 
willow on her husband's tombstone. 

As often as these meetings are held, doughnuts, cheese and 
cider are served down in the cellar of the historical society's 
house. Whether people a hundred and more years ago thus 
treated their guests I cannot say, but at any rate that is a fixed 
habit of the heads of the Historical Society or Antique Club as I 
choose to call it. 

Margaret Clark, 1919 

tEfye <£t?emng VO'xnb 

Long ago I heard the wind, 
The evening wind from far away, 
Murmuring over distant hills, 
Over hills at close of day. 

And the wind blew through the trees 

Of the woods where all was still, 

Save for sounds of Nature's voice. 

I heard the drowsy, droning rill 

As it flowed between the rocks; 

The thrushes sang their vesper song, 

And soon the moon began to shine, 

Making shadows weird and long; 

Shadows played among the leaves, 

Shadows lurked and flickered there, 

And silver lights began to glow 

Upon the tree trunks brown and bare. 

And all the while the gentle breeze 

Blew through branches high above ; 

Awed, I listened, and I felt 

God's own peace, and God's deep love. 
Long ago I heard the wind 
The evening wind from far away, 
Murmuring over distant hills, 
Over hills at close of day. 

Julia Conant Abb6, 1920 

{Efyen (Dut Spake Brace f}orattus 

"Last watch, Post No. 6 — Private Trump. Company dis- 

Guard duty, last watch at Post No. 6! Private Trump's chest 
swelled with pride. Now he would have a chance to prove that 
two weeks of hard training had not passed lightly over his 
extremely young and inexperienced head. Yes, he would show 
them that Private Trump, No. 54, B Company, was a soldier 
born and bred. The great responsibility and honor which, he 
convinced himself, was coming to him that night, wiped all minor 
troubles such as lost mess cups and extra fatigues from his mind. 
As soon as he was free he slipped away to a neighboring barnyard 
where he was discovered an hour later grimly challenging chickens 
and fiercely commanding a brindled calf to advance and give the 
counter sign. That was all very well for the daytime, thought 
he, but what about the dangers that he must confront at Post 
No. 6 that night? The life of a soldier was indeed a hard one. 

Now Post No. 6 was a light wooden bridge swung across a small 
stream in the middle of a dusky hollow, a vitally important 
position, reasoned Private Trump, as an enemy attacking the 
camp would probably choose this very spot in which to lie in 
ambush. Still he was a soldier now, no longer a schoolboy. 

"Anything moving?" he asked in his most professional tones 
as he relieved the guard. 

"Nothing doing as yet," was the gruff reply. "But — a little 
inside dope : keep your eye on that bit of woods over yonder." 

"Yes, sir," stammered the excited rookie. "But, sir, what is 

"Nothing, nothing, my boy, but you just take my advice, and 
keep your eye open, that's all," and he went off chuckling in the 
dark, for he was an old soldier. 

Inside dope! Keep your eye open! There must be something 
in the wind. Private Trump, left alone, shook in his boots. But 
he was a soldier. He drew himself up two inches more than he 
had before thought humanly possible, pointed the muzzle of his 
gun to the north star, and paced boldly forth. Yes, he would do 
his duty. What might not happen? The country was full of 



spies. The enemy were on every side. The camp was an im- 
portant factor in the military preparations of the nation. Any- 
thing might befall, and it might be possible that he alone could 
prevent disaster. It would be fine to die in his tracks a hero, the 
very first of his company. He thought of brave Horatius and to 
his fired imagination it seemed as though his fate might even be 

Jolly old boy that, he thought to himself. Great, the way he • 
and the dauntless three kept the bridge in the pass of Thermopylae 
with the Spartan hordes pouring down upon them. It wouldn't 
be half bad to do that. Of course, he would have to die, but then, 
think of people making poems about Bobby Trump, the hero of 
the day, the savior of his country, and all that. His dad would 
be pretty proud, you bet, and his kid brother, well he could just 
imagine Johnnie strutting around school boasting about his big 
brother; and Polly, his adored Polly, she'd be sorry she called 
him "little Bobby" and wouldn't take him seriously. She'd be 
pretty glad to say he was fond of her before he became a soldier, 
when they began to write about him in the papers. And then 
they'd have a big funeral and the President would maybe send 
a letter to his mother the way Lincoln did and well, the old 
Roman didn't have anything on him in all that, you bet. And 

Sh-h — what was that a sound ! — someone over in the 

woods. Simultaneously Private Trump's exalted thoughts de- 
scended and his hair began to rise. The sound became louder. 
They might be a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, and he, like 
brave Horatius, must stop them or die. He summoned all his 
courage, raised his gun to his shoulder and in a voice as much 
like the major's as he could make it, rapped out: 

"Halt — who goes there ! " No answer. 

" Halt — who goes there ! " No answer. He nervously fingered 
his trigger. Once more : 
"Reply or I fire!!" 

Then spoke the ten thousand in bucolic tones: "M-m-a-a." 

Gwendolen Bossi, 1919 

(Dne of tfye ^our million 

C. P. McPherson was sound asleep. His head lay on an open 
book in which were a few sheets of paper, hastily written, and in 
great confusion. The first light of the dawn was beginning to 
shine through the narrow windows. While the flickering gas still 
lighted up the small room, which was furnished with only a bed, 
a table, and the chair in which McPherson was sitting — grad- 
ually the room grew lighter and just as the first sunlight came 
into the window McPherson awoke with a start. 

"Great Scott!" he ejaculated, and without further comment 
began to study the calculus again. But his mind wandered and 
he could not keep his thoughts on the mathematics. He thought 
of how he had left Lester Street to earn his education. On that 
street he had played from the earliest time that he could remem- 
ber. Then came the long years in High School and now he was 
at college. 

He worked at night in a garage on Seventy-second Street and 
went to college every day. But in those few hours between the 
closing of Hogan's garage and the opening of college he could 
not study. Every morning he would fall asleep over his work, 
and again and again he had appeared in classes unprepared. 

But the classes — the Calculus. The inspiration that he had 
found in Professor Pane's instruction was so great that it seemed 
as though if he could only hold out for that year he would be 
successful. But every night it was just the same. He went to 
Hogan's and washed cars — first the hose, then the sponge and 
the chamois. Often he would forget his work and dream of 
splendid bridges and towers that he imagined himself building. 
Then Mr. Hogan would come in and remark: 

"Hey there, McPherson, what is this? A field of daisies?" 

So the time had gone along and now he was failing. He knew 
it, and he intended to speak to the secretary that day and explain. 
As he sat there dreaming, a knock came at the door and the 
landlady entered. 

"Sorry, Mr. McPherson," she said, "but if you don't pay no 
more rent you will have to get out. I'd sure like to have you 
stay, but money's money." 



Sorrowfully McPherson shook his head and began to pick up 
his books. He packed his bundle, put his books under his arm 
and went down the rickety stairs. As he stepped out into the 
air he noticed by the clock in the pawnshop across the street 
that it was eight-thirty and that he must set out for college. 

As he went to his first class the secretary's assistant came up 
to him and said with her nose in the air: "You are wanted in the 
office at nine-thirty, Mr. McPherson. Please be prompt." 

She turned around and strutted away. She would not have 
anything to do with one of those poor fellows. McPherson 
noticed it and felt still more that he was friendless and homeless. 
But he was called to the office — maybe that meant that he was 
awarded the scholarship for which he was working, or perhaps 
the secretary had a good position for him. Well, he would see 
soon. At nine-thirty he was in the much-dreaded "Den of 
Lions*', as the secretary's office had been dubbed. As he waited 
he looked over all the brownness of the office. On the table lay 
the never-to-be-forgotten "Anatomy of Melancholy" which 
college boys of many generations had regarded with awe. 

The door that led into the main office opened and he went in . 
The secretary was sitting behind the huge mahogany desk and 
rustling ominously the many sheets of paper on it. 

"Well," began the great man, with a sarcastic smile, "you 
don't seem to be distinguishing yourself, do you?" 

"Why," McPherson gasped. 

"To be explicit," continued the secretary. "This college does 
not desire men who do not bring credit to it. I hope that you will 
find some occupation more suited to the gifts you doubtless have 
than the one that you are leaving." 

McPherson got to his feet shakily, went out through the brown 
ante-room into the street, and started down Broadway towards 
the East Side and Lester Street. 

Elizabeth Hawkes, 1920 

(X ZHustery 

We were sitting by the fireside knitting. I had just finished 
picking up a stitch which my companion had dropped. When 
I handed her knitting back to her, she thanked me — "as much 
as tongue can tell ". 

Upon hearing these words my thoughts wandered back to the 
time when I was a small child, and the scene about me was 
changed completely. I had an aunt who had taught me to say, 
"as much as Tonkin Tell" whenever I wanted to express 
myself strongly. So when she visited us, soon after her arrival 
at the house, I would climb into her lap and tactfully ask, 
"Auntie — did you bring me some candy, Auntie?" 

She would reply, "How much do you love me?" 

Winding my plump arms tightly about her neck, and taking a 
deep breath, I would answer, "As much as Tonkin Tell." 

Then she would produce a large box of sticky gumdrops, and I 
would lapse into a blissful silence. 

The phrase, "as much as Tonkin Tell" often troubled me. I 
wondered who this person could be. I remembered the story my 
mother used to relate to me about William Tell, who shot the 
apple on his son's head. I wondered if Tonkin Tell was any 
relation to William, but upon questioning my mother closely, I 
found that he was not. 

Then I imagined him a big, jolly man — maybe something like 
Santa Claus; or maybe a maker of gumdrops. Whoever he was, 
I had great respect for him. 

At last I decided that he must be a great friend of my aunt, a 
friend that loved her very much, a friend that was good and 
kind. He must have a great many fine qualities, because my 
aunt knew him and liked him, so it seemed. I had a great desire 
to meet this great Tonkin Tell. He must be a great man. Some 
day I 

"Oh! I dropped another stitch!" 

I was back at the fireside again, and my companion was vainly- 
trying to pick up the lost stitch. 

"Here, give it to me and I'll do it for you," I offered politely, 
remembering the kind Tonkin Tell. Sallie Bartlett, 1921 

Heflecttons in tfye Water 

Above the clear, calm surface of the pool, 

Her slender form with hardy leaves entwined, 

A yellow rose her graceful neck inclined 

To steal a glance into the waters cool. 

A timid look into that mirror deep — 

With vanity was filled the rose so meek ; 

She brushed the surface with her velvet cheek ; 

Sweet fragrance to the quiet pool did creep. 

The haughty blossom higher reared her head ; 

She wished no more her riotous charms to hide — 

Until her petals soft began to fade, 

Her golden heart grew dark and then decayed, — 

At dusk she floated on the surface — dead. 

The water gently rippled as it sighed. 

Elizabeth Sjostrom, 1919 

Cfyetr Christmas (5uest 

"Jane, dear, don't you think that it would be a lovely idea to 
have one of those poor lonesome sailor boys here for Christmas 
dinner?" said Miss Bessie Oldham to her sister, one crisp morn- 
ing in December as the two little old ladies were finishing their 
prim breakfast. 

"Why, what a sweet idea, Bessie. I do think it would be 
beautiful. Just think, some nice young fellow who has never 
been away from home on Christmas Day before ; he will miss his 
mother so, and maybe we can help him forget his homesickness. 
I will ask Mrs. Martin to-day how we can get one to come and 
then I'll see Sara about the dinner. We must be sure to have all 
the things he is used to at home. Oh, sister, how lovely it will 
be to feel that we are helping some homesick boy. I must go and 
see if Sara can't think of something extra nice to have." And 
little Miss Oldham fluttered off to start the preparations. 

At last it was Christmas Day and the two sisters anxiously 
awaited the arrival of their guest. 

"I do wonder what he'll be like, dear," Miss Bessie kept 
saying between her flutterings around the house to see that 
everything was in readiness. "Probably he'll be about eighteen, 
they say they are so young in the Navy, and perhaps he'll have 
light curly hair and blue eyes just like Cousin Mary Roberts' 
boy — he is such a dear. Oh, look, there he is now; he's very 
nice and tall, isn't he?" 

The guest when he was finally ushered in was quite a surprise 
to them both. Jake McCurdy was not at all like Cousin Mary 
Roberts' Teddy. As Miss Bessie had said, he was tall; he was 
also broad and decidedly ill at ease in the presence of the two 
little ladies, the fragile furniture and bric-a-brac. Miss Oldham 
was the first of the three to remember her duties. 

"We are so glad to see you, Mr. " 

"McCurdy, ma'am, Jake McCurdy," replied her embarrassed 

"Oh, yes, won't you sit down, Mr. McCurdy?" continued 
Miss Oldham. 



Mr. McCurdy sat down, and there was another moment of 

"How long have you been at the station?" ventured Miss 

"Pretty well, thank you, ma'am," balancing nervously on the 
edge of a slippery haircloth chair. 

"How many men are there there now?" Miss Oldham took 
her turn. 

"About forty-seven thousand, I think, madam." 
"Have you been there very long, Mr. McCurdy?" 
"Two months, ma'am." 

"Have you been homesick, you poor boy?" asked sympathetic 
Miss Bessie, her heart yearning to comfort a lonesome boy. 

" No ma'am, thank you." Jake was becoming a trifle bored. 

" I suppose you live near enough to get home often to see your 
family; that must be so nice." Miss Bessie was not discouraged 

"No, ma'am, since I've been in the Navy I haven't had any 
home except the barracks." 

"Why, you poor boy, you must come here often and try to 
think of this as home. We would love to have you." 

Jake looked rather startled at this sudden offer of a home and 
was about to stutter out an embarrassed answer when dinner 
was announced. 

Poor Miss Jane and Miss Bessie! If they were shocked to 
find their protege without yellow curls and blue eyes, they were 
deeply pained to observe him at the table. He meant extremely 
well but unfortunately his standards of table etiquette were not 
quite up to theirs. At last the painful ordeal was over. 

By this time all possible questions concerning life at the 
station had been asked and all possible topics of conversation 
introduced in a vain effort to interest their guest. Finally he 
rose to go and Miss Bessie was ashamed to catch herself in a sigh 
of relief. 

When he was out of the house, Miss Jane turned to Miss Bessie. 
"Sister," she said, "I think that next Christmas we had better 
have orphans, somehow they seem more suited to us than sailors." 

"Yes," agreed Miss Jane. "You are perfectly right." 



And outside in a very different 
was expressing the same idea, 
those!" he exclaimed to himself. 

sort of language Jake McCurdy 
"Deliver me from another of 
"Me for Child's any day!" 

Ellinor Blymyer, 1920 


Reprinted from Poetry: A Magazine of Verse 

Give me the long, straight road before me, 

A clear, cold day with a nipping air, 
Tall bare trees to run on beside me, 

A heart that is light and free from care. 
Then let me go! — I care not whither 

My feet may lead, for my spirit shall be 
Free as a brook that flows to the river, 

Free as the river that flows to the sea. 

Olive Runner 

£fye finger of Progress 

Ten years ago people mourned what they called "the passing 
of Old Detroit": Those who had grown up in the pleasant quiet 
of its long, shady avenues, felt a pang of intense regret to see 
them invaded and despoiled by the onslaught of industry. 
Woodward Avenue, the pride of Detroit for its fine old residences 
and beautiful trees, underwent a gradual but disheartening 
change. The lovely homes were torn down to give place to 
garages, and stores, and movies; and the immaculate pavements 
became soiled by the feet of a heterogeneous throng, gathered from 
every country in the world. Its serenity was interrupted by the 
clang of new street car lines and the whirr of factory wheels. 
In the downtown section the old buildings were remodeled or 
torn down, while in the outskirts great subdivisions unrolled, and 
street after street rapidly filled with rows of new houses. Hurry 
and tumult, business and commerce, entered the city and claimed 
it for their own. The change, gradual as it has been, has so 
transformed the city that to-day a stranger who had known it 
in 1908 would not recognize it. 

If such a person is crossing the border to-day from Windsor, 
he sees an interesting sight. As the ferry swings away from the 
dock, a sweeping view of Detroit spreads out before him. It is 
the picture of a fine, prosperous, American city. It stretches 
for miles along the river; its wharves are filled with shipping. 
The freighters nosing the shore are loaded with ore from Duluth 
and lumber from northern Michigan forests. Back from the 
river the skyline of low conglomerate buildings is broken only by 
church spires, save towards the central portion where one's 
interest concentrates. Here, rising from the heart of the city, 
is a group of skyscrapers. Straight, and majestic, and white, 
they tower above the sordid and grimy buildings of the sur- 
rounding city. These new buildings, beautiful, tall, stately, 
symbolize the spirit of the new Detroit which has risen out of its 
former self. Having passed through the painful transition from 
a pretty town to a great city, it is emerging fine and splendid and 
alive, filled with a thousand sorts of peoples and as many cos- 
mopolitan interests. 

Constance Ling, 1920 

ISob-Wxn (Entanglements 

Perhaps you think that a man separated from home and family- 
is very easy prey for a girl who can write good letters. Perhaps. 
Anyway Lieutenant Bob White of the famous 107th "fell for" 
Janet Lee's letters and decided that she was just the kind of girl 
he had been waiting for for all his twenty-nine years. How their 
correspondence started is of little consequence to us — we prefer 
the effect to the cause. 

When the armistice was signed Bob and Janet had been corre- 
sponding very regularly for over a year — Bob was a West 
Pointer and one of the first across. Janet had got to the point 
where she admitted she was worried and anxious when she didn't 
hear from him regularly, but she was a rather conventional girl 
for a modern New Yorker and she was afraid, terribly afraid to 
have him come home — yet she wanted him to — oh! awfully. 

Three weeks after the signing of the armistice she got a letter 
with a Base Hospital postmark. Poor Janet! She was afraid to 
open the letter, but after she had gathered up her courage and 
read it the first fear was replaced by another of a different kind. 
For the letter had said, " I have had a slight case of influenza and 
as I'm pretty weak the M. C. man says I had better go home for 

a cure. The first thing I do will be to look you up and then " 

And he had finished by saying, "I shall probably arrive very 
soon after this letter or before it, unless the armistice clears up 
the mail service." 

He might come any day! Janet was crazy to see him, but down 
in her heart she was afraid ■ — afraid he might be disappointed in 
her. She knew she couldn't be disappointed in him. 

She hadn't long to wait, for that very morning came a letter 
asking her to meet him for lunch the next day and to bring a 
friend because he was staying with a classmate of his and would 
like her to meet him. Janet knew the classmate was only to save 
her from embarrassment. So she called up the most attractive 
of her friends. 

"Jinny," she said, "you'll do me a great favor, won't you?" 
"Of course," said Jinny promptly. 



"Well, I want you to be me for to-morrow," and she told her 
of the meeting. Jinny demurred but gave in after much per- 

Bob had no shy disposition and his experience had not taught 
him that he need fear how a woman would like him. But now 
that he was back in the land where all women were attractive 
and where tantalizing letters mean nothing, and where he was 
f£ted and petted and cooed over endlessly, he began to have his 
doubts as to Janet's wonderful qualities, which had seemed so 
very wonderful to him. So he and his classmate also changed 

They met with very little embarrassment, though no one really 
looked squarely at anyone else until they were seated with a 
waiter hovering respectfully around them. 

Bob, looking at the supposed Janet, said to himself, " Darn it 
all, I didn't want her to be flauntingly good-looking. Why 
couldn't she have been the other one. She's the kind that would 
help a fellow out any time." 

And Janet, looking at the supposed Bob, thought, " He doesn't 
look a bit as if he had been through the awful things over there, 
he looks frivolous. I like the other one better." 

As for the supposed Janet and the classmate — they seemed 
to find favor in each other, and not having any problems of their 
own they kept the conversation going, though the other two 
were rather silent — wondering how they were going to get out 
of their enbarrassing situation. 

Bob, who wasn't a very good dissembler, forgot himself and 
said: "Say, Joe, I didn't leave my cigarette case in my uniform 
pocket, did I?" 

Janet with her own mistaken identity heavy on her mind, 
noticed the slip and looked quickly from one man to another. 
But Joe carefully felt of all the pockets of the uniform and finally 
brought forth a cigarette case, decorated with an insignia which 
Janet recognized as the insignia of Bob's regiment, and below it 
Bob's initials. It might have passed off all right but Bob, seeing 
that Janet knew his ruse, slowly began to get scarlet, and mur- 
mured, "I guess they found us out, old man." 



Janet held her head high. She was really glad to find that the 
nicer one was Bob but she wasn't exactly sure whether she ought 
to be insulted or not, just on principle, of course. But not so 
Jinny. She snickered, then giggled, and finally burst out laugh- 
ing. The two men were amazed, and in Janet's eyes a twinkle 
was born, though her cheeks were flaming. 

"I c-c-can't h-help it," giggled Jinny. "It's the — the 
f-f-funniest th-thing I ever heard of. Where's my hanky? I 
never laughed so hard!" And words failed her. 

"Well," said Janet, unsuspected dimples making their appear- 
ance. She tried hard to look serious and only succeeded in 
making them deeper and finally had to drop her lashes to hide 
the smile in her eyes. "Well, I suppose it's up to me to explain." 

"Yes," giggled Ginny. 

"But," said Bob. "Aren't you sore or something? We're the 
ones that should explain." 

"No," said Janet. "You see — you see — well, you see I'm 
really Janet Lee, and the person with the giggles is really Virginia 

"Three rousing cheers!" said both men together. "Now that 
we know each other let's all go to the theatre tonight to celebrate." 

"Janet, dear," said Bob several weeks later when everything 
had been settled, even to the date of the wedding. "Why did you 
do it?" 

"I was afraid, well I guess I was afraid you might not like me. 
And Jinny is so attractive — I didn't want you to be disap- 

There is only one reply to a remark like that. 
"Why did you do it, Bob?" she asked later. 
"Well, because I was a fool, I guess." 
And Janet with a woman's intuition let it go at that. 

Eleonore Taylor, 1919 


Of rare significance to the school has been the opening of the 
two new cottages, Draper Homestead and Sunset Lodge. Draper 
Homestead, opposite Draper Hall on School Street, was for many 
years the home of Mr. and Mrs. Draper, who did so much for the 
school and who loved it so dearly. In September it was opened 
and furnished as nearly as possible the way it had been by Mr. 
and Mrs. Draper, much of their furniture being used. Sunset 
Lodge, beyond Sherman Cottage on Abbot Street, was opened 
in January and is dear to us because there Miss McKeen, for so 
many years principal of Abbot, spent the sunset years of her life. 
May these two cottages keep fresh the memory of these dear 
friends whom every Abbot girl learns to love, and may the 
thought of their lives be an inspiration to us in the days to come. 

Without a question the greatest event of our school year, of 
our lives, in fact, was that which took place at four o'clock on 
the morning of November 11th. Then it was that we first knew 
by the wild ringing of whistles and church-bells that the armis- 
tice had been signed and that the war was ended. Even now we 
cannot tell clearly just what we thought and how we felt when 
we woke up in the early dawn to that sound. We cannot tell 
what we thought, but we can tell what we did. Out into the 
dark corridors we tore, up and down we capered in a mad, sense- 
less dance of joy. Then in a momentary return to sanity we 
hurriedly threw on some clothes and assembled in the hall for a 
rousing sing. A procession through the house followed by a 
march around the circle and a snake-dance visit from Phillips, 
only served to heighten our excitement and enthusiasm, and 
when papers arrived confirming the glorious news we very nearly 
lost our heads. For the next hour, in and out of the house, up and 
down the stairs we laughed and wept and sang until the break- 
fast bell brought us to the realization that we were hungry. And 
yet all that frantic demonstration was not the expression of our 
true feelings. That was only the result of the rebound of our 
spirits after casting away, all in a moment, the worries and 
doubts and fears that had been gnawing at our hearts for so 



many long months, merely the result of an overwhelming relief 
and an irresistible impulse to say something, do something, sing 
something, it mattered not what. All that came in the first wild 
rush of joy before we had had time to quiet down and think. 
The true expression of our feelings came later when we were 
assembled in chapel. Then, with our school-mates around us, 
our faculty before us, and the bright, clean atmosphere of morning 
over everything, then, and then only, did the significance of 
that hour dawn upon us. And as we slowly grasped the realiza- 
tion that the guns were forever stilled and that cruel slaughter 
had forever ceased, a wonder and awe stole over us, obliterating 
the petty, selfish thoughts and leaving in us only a great and 
true thankfulness. And then we sang and put our hearts into 
it, and we prayed and put our souls into it, and out of it all came 
a feeling of love and unity, a feeling of fellowship with mankind 
and an earnest purpose to live up to the solemn vow each of us 
made within her to lead a life that should be in some measure 
worthy of the sacrifice of the Great War. So it was that the 
Peace came to Abbot. 

The Abbot girls have not been slacking this summer. We 
found that out at our "Summer War Work Meeting" in Abbot 
Hall this fall. Of course there were the farmerettes, who had 
worked all summer but who seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed 
picking the apples, harvesting the hay, and driving the cows 
home from pasture. There were the Canteen girls, who had 
found that it was the greatest fun to feed a hungry sailor or 
soldier. There were those who had spent their time in the 
Automobile Corps, importantly driving men in uniform from 
place to place. There were the girls who had worked in the 
hostess houses, giving the homesick soldier a merry half-hour. 
They all did something and they all enjoyed it. 

What makes Andover look so deserted in the afternoons? 
Where are the crowds of girls that used to be seen on Main Street 
and in Lowe's Drug Store? W r here are the girls that used to 
keep Chase's and Campion's busy? At half-past three every 
afternoon there is a mad rush from class-rooms and dormitories. 



Books are flung aside in haste and their owners disappear around 
the corner of Draper Hall. But very soon they reappear, worn 
out but victorious, with a triumphant smile on their faces. 
Each girl holds in one hand four or five sandwiches, in the other 
a piece of cake, several cookies, an apple, a banana, and a cake 
of chocolate, while their tongues are still burning from the hot 
chocolate they have just had. No more do these starved, thin 
specimens resort to the village for nourishment — for now Mrs. 
Scannell has opened a lunch-room in her apartment, where all 
may find refreshment after the strenuous work of the day. 

We have this year a new kind of informal Sunday group which 
seems to be working out more and more satisfactorily. Dis- 
cussion instead of reading aloud has been the keynote, and we 
have discovered that we really can discuss, in a girl's room, more 
or less violently, even though we may be wordless in classes. 
Our increasing desire, this first year of the great reconstruction 
period, for a larger knowledge and understanding of the prob- 
lems of the world has naturally influenced our choice of subjects. 
Therefore nearly all of us are seeking the challenge of the present 
crisis, with the help of Mr. Fosdick's inspiring book, and our 
own leaders and groups. We are finding it in many ways and 
places, and are doing our best to meet it in a spirit worthy of the 
kind of women we wish to be — and are thought to be by those 
more active challenge-acceptors overseas. A hard thing for 
many of us to accept has been the necessity of the comparative 
smallness of our sacrifice. It would be so much easier to do big 
things! So we are finding our special challenge in accepting, 
as gamely as possible, our part, not one of doing, but one of pre- 
paring to do. Our preparation is of necessity intensive — we 
must fit ourselves mentally, bodily, spiritually for our big work 
of the future, and there are many things to learn. Our informal 
group talks are helping. The thoughts and ideas of others are 
surely broadening us, even if gradually. 

A new form of entertainment was introduced to us this fall 
when we were invited to a husking-bee. No, "we" weren't 
invited, just fifty of us were. The great question was who should 


be the lucky fifty. To make it fair we drew lots and we were a 
happy fifty who trooped off to Mr. Chase's farm, and it was a 
sad bunch that watched us from the windows as we left. We 
were ready for work; our clothes showed that, nothing more 
elaborate than a " peter torn " and a sweater. When we got there, 
O what fun we had! Sides were chosen, and for an hour the air 
was full of laughter and cornhusks. The very best part of it was 
that we had husked one hundred and one bushels of corn, earned 
five dollars for the Red Cross, and saved Mr. Chase's corn crop! 

"Save me a mop," comes the whispered word as certain 
ambitious housekeepers hurry early from the dining-room on a 
Wednesday morning. Half an hour later the work is well under 
way. The corridors begin to resemble an antique shop or an 
auction sale, with chairs, tables, screens, lamps, clothes, books, 
and every conceivable bit of worldly wealth scattered in sweet 
confusion throughout the halls. As you tread your way pre- 
cariously through this maze of household goods, you may catch 
a fleeting glimpse through the open doors — no need to close 
them with such a barricade — of a pair of waving legs and, 
following this clue, may discern amid the haze a busy worker, 
flat on her stomach, fiercely jabbing at that mysterious region 
that lies under the bed. Being the only lazy person in sight, 
you turn for sympathy to the great out-of-doors, and, as you step 
forth, stumble over a pile of mats, wildly dodge the descending 
stick of a muscular rug-beater, and receive upon the head a 
shower of pillows from somewhere in the infinite. Terrified by 
this onslaught, you return hopefully to the sanctuary of your 
own room. Alas! Your roommate has it too, and with desolate 
heart you flee to the "Libe", there to find dusty peace 'mid the 
realms of the learned. 

Girls, it's up to you to lessen the noise in the dining-room! 
Keep your voices low; don't scream across the table to your best 
friend! If every girl would remember this, the dining-room 
would be a much pleasanter place for all of us. So it's your 
business, your own personal business, to take care of this, and 
what are you going to do about it? 



44 How kitosh!" we murmur, gazing at our latest friend's latest 
sweater — or else at the sandwiches in Mrs. Scannell's lunch- 
room. "It's simply wonderful!" shrieks the enthusiastic one, 
but we care not. It might be anything that's wonderful — or 
nothing — so why worry? Words are quaint things. As Humpty 
Dumpty, of Alice-in-Wonderland fame, says, a word, if you but 
treat it gently and pleasantly, will do anything and mean any- 
thing for you. We at Abbot are mild and kind-hearted without 
doubt; our words — pardon, our word — serves us well. But 
are we so kind? It dies, poor thing, of overwork, and we must 
find another. The latest -born is "Sw-w-e-e-11!" Have you 
heard it? But really, it is a wonderful word — so expressive, 
you know. 

^ctcultij Changes 

Miss Sherman, for several years head of the French Depart- 
ment, and for the last year on leave of absence, has sent in her 
resignation from the faculty. We had looked forward to having 
Miss Sherman and her mother once more in charge of Sherman 
Cottage, and we shall miss them even more now that we know 
they are not coming back. 

Miss Laura Pettingell, who has been at the head of the Latin 
Department for two years, was unable to return to school this 
year because she wished to be nearer to her mother. She is 
teaching at the Buckingham School in Cambridge. 

Miss King, who taught History and Botany, and who did a 
great deal toward systematizing the library, is working for the 
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in Boston. She 
has been asked to start a branch of this work in Hoi yoke. This 
is the kind of work which always held a great interest for Miss 
King, and she is well fitted for it. Her duties consist of field 
as well as clerical work. 

Miss Edith Aldred who, as resident nurse, has so successfully 
cared for the health of the girls for nine years, is this year the 
assistant supervisor of the Training School for Nurses of the 
New Haven Hospital. 

We miss both Miss Parkhurst and Madame Wright this year 
from the French Department. Miss Parkhurst is teaching at 
Bethany College, Topeka, Kansas. 

Miss Bixby has left her place as superv isor of the day scholars 
in order to complete a course of study in Tufts College, and Miss 
Pickering, last year assistant to Miss Mason in Chemistry and 
Physics, is teaching at Chevy Chase School in Washington, D. C. 

There are several new faces in the faculty this year. Miss 
Hilda Baynes of Montreal, Canada, is in charge of the French 
Department. Miss Baynes, after completing courses in French 
at McGill University, Montreal, spent three years in Paris. 
She studied at the Sorbonne, received the " Diploma Superieure" 
of the Guilde International, and completed the course for the 
Licencee des Lettres. She has been teaching for the past four 



years in Western University, London, Ontario. Miss Baynes's 
assistant is a native Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Alice Desplaces. 

In the Latin Department, assisting Miss Marceau, is Miss 
Helen Robinson of Gloucester, a Smith graduate in the class of 
1905. For nine years Miss Robinson has taught Latin in the 
Newbury port High School. Miss Janet Davison, Wellesley 1915, 
of Eath, New York, is teaching American and English History 
and is in charge of the library. The work in Household Science 
and Biology is being conducted by Miss Bertha Grimes of Law- 
rence. Miss Grimes graduated from Wellesley in 1912. She is 
also assisting in Chemistry and Physics. 

Miss Elizabeth Bacon, Abbot 1917, is in charge of the day 
scholars, taking Miss Bixby's place. Miss Bacon, whose home 
is in Albany, N. Y., has completed a course at the Albany 
Business College. She is assisting Miss Dowd in the office. 

The resignation of Miss Aldred has made it necessary to 
appoint a new nurse, and Mrs. Katherine Y. Boutelle of Danvers 
is filling the position in a very capable manner. Mrs. Boutelle 
received her training at the Worcester City Hospital, and in the 
Sloane Hospital of New York City. After the death of her 
husband, she conducted a sanitorium in Danvers very success- 

Miss Marjorie Ashley of New Bedford, a graduate of Simmons 
College, was assistant to Miss McLean during the fall term. 

Everyone in the school felt sorry at the resignation in January 
of Miss McLean, who since 1907 has been in charge of Draper 
Hall. We have always appreciated the comfort which Miss 
McLean's quiet but efficient management of the house brought 
us, but even more we have all felt the charm of her unfailing 
courtesy and kindly cheerfulness, and we shall miss her very 
much. She and her sister will be for the rest of the winter in 
their pretty new house at 139 University Road, Brookline. 

Miss McLean's successor is Miss Caroline M. Goodwin of 
Worcester, a graduate of Simmons College, who has had excellent 
experience in household management at the Misses Masters' 
School at Dobbs Ferry and as assistant in charge of the dining- 
halls of the Institute of Technology. With the opening of 
Sunset Lodge it seemed wise to have an assistant who should 



have oversight of the household management of the three cottages, 
and Miss Mary Bishop Putnam of Dan vers has come to us in 
that capacity. Miss Putnam has had large knowledge of schools, 
having been housekeeper at the Kent Place School in Summit 
and at Miss Shipley's and Miss Capen's schools. 

Miss Marion Pooke asked for a leave of absence in January 
and hopes to spend the year in France doing Y.M.C.A. work. 
A friend, Mrs. Beatrice Whitney Van Ness, a Boston artist 
who studied at the Art Museum School under Mr. Benson, Mr. 
Tarbell, Mr. Hale and Mr. Bela Pratt, will take her classes at 
the school. 

Scbool 3ournal 





School begins. 

Hall Exercises. Miss Bailey: Rules of the School. 

Chapel. Miss Bailey: On Doing Everything as to the Lord. 

Chapel. Rev. C. W. Henry: Lessons of the War. 


5 Hall Exercises. Abbot Patriotic League meeting. 

6 Chapel. Mr. Shipman: On "Quarantining" Sin. 

8 Old Girls' Dance for New Girls. 

9 Picnic of Class Officers at Prospect Hill. 

12 Hall Exercises. Patriotic meeting at which several girls told of interesting 

summer experiences. 

13 Chapel. Mr. Gutterson: " Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself." 

15 Baby Party. 

16 Senior Picnic at Haggett's Pond. 

19 Hall Exercises. Miss Kelsey: Yesterday at Abbot. 

26 Hall Exercises. Miss Bailey: Our Relations with Boys. 

27 Miss Helen Hughes: Drive for United War Work Fund. 
29 Hallowe'en Party. 

31 Miss Elizabeth Hazanovitz: Life in the Ukraine. 

2 Hare and Hound Chase with Bradford at Abbot, followed by picnic at 

Pomps Pond. 

3 United War Work Fund Conference in Boston. 

3 Chapel. Miss Bailey: United War Work Drive. 
9 Hall Exercises: Rally for United War Work Drive. 

10 Chapel. Dr. Stearns and Mr. Jones: The United War Work Drive. 

11 Armistice signed. 

Boys' Snake-Dance in the early morning. 

Chapel Service. 

Tea Dance at Phillips. 

Church in evening. 

12 Holiday. School marched in parade in afternoon. In evening, Nursing 

Sister Davis spoke. 
16 Andover- Exeter football game. 

Chapel. Dr. Barbour of Rochester Theological Seminary: The Great 


Work of the Y.M.C.A. 



21 Senior Class entertained by Miss Bailey in the McKeen Rooms in the 

24 Mr. Birge of Y.M.C.A.: Moslem Girls. 

25 Academic Seniors visit Mrs. Jack Gardner's palace. 
27 Thanksgiving Service. 

Holidays begin. 

29 School opens. 

30 Chapel. Dr. Fitch. United War Fund Talk. 
Trustees came to dinner. 


5 Miss Helen Fraser: Women's Work in Reconstruction. 

6 Miss Bailey spoke before New England Association of Secondary Schools 

and Colleges. 

8 Mr. Carl Kepner of Y.M.C.A.: The French Poilu. 
10 Corridor Stunt Party. 

14 Hall Exercises: Patriotic League meeting. 

15 Christmas Service. 

18 Christmas Party in the McKeen Rooms. 

19 Holidays begin. 


8 School opens. 

12 Chapel. Miss Bailey: The Law of Service. 


Miss Kelsey spoke at Hall Exercises on Saturday, October 19th. She chose 
as her subject "Yesterday at Abbot", and she gave the early history of the 
school so vividly that we all imagined ourselves as students of the school in 
its earlier days, when Smith Hall was its principal dormitory and the school 
was just beginning to become well known. Miss Kelsey then told a few stories 
of Abbot Academy, the most important one being the raising of the funds 
to build Draper Hall, the dormitory of which we all are so proud. 

On Thursday evening, October 31st, Miss Elizabeth Hasanovitz of the 
Ukraine region in Russia spoke to us in Davis Hall. Miss Hasanovitz came 
to this country when a young girl and after many struggles has risen to take 
an active part in arguments concerning labor and capital. At present, besides 
lecturing, she is writing articles for The Atlantic Monthly and other magazines. 
Her talk to us was about Ukrainia from its early history to the present day. 
She also stated Ukrainia's part in and feelings toward the Revolution, and she 
dwelt at great length on the Bolsheviki and as to whether we should recognize 
them as the rulers of Russia. 

Nursing Sister Davis, who has the rank of a Lieutenant in the Canadian 
Army, spoke to us on the great holiday, November 12th. She has seen active 
service in England and France during the first years of the war and she told 



us of the life of a nurse in the war camps and at the front. She was one of the 
first Canadian nurses to enlist for service on the other side, and she was very 
enthusiastic about the way in which the nurses and soldiers stood many 
hardships, side by side, and without one complaint. Her talk was in con- 
nection with the raising of funds for the United War Work Campaign, and 
after we had heard her we felt like giving even more than we had already given 
to so noble a cause. 

On Thursday evening, December 5th, Miss Helen Fraser of London spoke 
to us in Davis Hall. Last year when she came to us her talk was about the 
war work of the English women, but this year a great change has taken place 
and instead of talking of war work she spoke of reconstruction work and the 
problems to be faced. This year, even more than last, she thrilled us with 
her stories of the great sacrifice of the boys, and her message to us was to make 
good these sacrifices and to carry on as never before. 

School Charities 

Beside the contributions to the United War Work Campaign Fund, there 
was a one hundred per cent Red Cross membership subscription. Sixty-five 
dollars was sent to Hindman, besides ten boxes of clothes and presents. Fifteen 
dollars was raised for Christmas for the poor children of Andover. The 
regular Sunday night contribution of last year amounted to $2856. 

Cfye 2tmteb VOax Woxk Campaign 

On the evening of October 27th, in Davis Hall, we began to lay aside for 
this year frivolous things, and to work harder for the world without our school 
walls, being inspired thereto by Miss Helen Hughes, who spoke to us con- 
cerning the United War Work Campaign, and the seven organizations it 
comprised. We left the hall decidedly interested in her personality, and in 
the information she gave us, and prepared to save and give in a large degree. 

The following Sunday Miss Bailey took a delegation of fourteen girls into 
Boston to a conference of representatives of the New England Colleges and 
Secondary Schools, which was held to determine what part the Massachusetts 
students should have in the campaign for $170,000,000. The meeting was 
one of inspiration and information, and the several speakers, with their in- 
vigorating views of the privileges and difficulties of the task, opened the drive 
in such a way that one knew it could not fail. Miss Hill of Dana Hall, speaking 
feelingly of the joy and privilege of sacrifice; Dr. Stearns on the reasons, 
necessities, and methods of this present sacrifice; representatives of Mt. 
Holyoke, Dana Hall, and Phillips Andover on campaign plans brought the 
enthusaism and decision of the audience to a unanimous acceptance of the 
proposed goal of $350,000, and a determination considerably to oversubscribe 
it. Mr. Brewer Eddy, in his closing address, full of illustrations of the worth of 
our small sacrifices to the men and women in many different uniforms, full 



of feeling, enthusiasm, and knowledge dramatically imparted, summed up the 
afternoon's mental experiences, and left with all a determination to give 
things seemingly impossible. 

The delegates tried to bring back with them these messages of the Con- 
ference, as well as the posters of the drive which appeared in the hall the 
following week. On the afternoon of Saturday, November 9th, a mass meeting 
of the entire school, faculty, students, and employees was held, which aroused 
decided enthusiasm in all quarters. This was augmented the next evening by 
Dr. Stearns, and Mr. Jones, the president of the local campaign in Andover, 
who spoke to us in Davis Hall. The latter, speaking of the financial side, 
and the plans and problems of Andover, was very illuminating. Dr. Stearns 
told us something about the needs of our boys, more imperative at this time 
of approaching peace even than before; and our appreciation of this doubtless 
increased our pledges. 

A committee of pledge collectors was formed, the school being divided into 
faculty, corridor, house, and employee teams, and on Monday, November 
11th, the drive officially opened. The tremendous excitement of that great 
day perhaps added to the desire immediately to "go over the top" — at any 
rate, a large part of the pledges were in that day, and the quota, $1800, had 
been reached. On November 13th the pledges were all made, with a total 
of over $2400. 

Five days later a call came from headquarters asking for an encouraging 
report, as the student quota was falling below. The school responded by 
raised pledges and a mass meeting at which the drive posters and some original 
ones were auctioned off, bringing the total to S2783. 

The contributions of the girls were entirely their own, and the money in 
many cases was earned in various ways. Shoe-shining parlors, shampoos, 
manicures, darning, mending, cleaning, all sprang into instant favor. Nearly 
everyone had some service to sell, and many bought. Money was also raised 
by the auction of a cake and doughnuts contributed by the cook, and by a 
tax of a penny on the after-dinner dancing. 

The money was promptly turned in by December 4th, and our Abbot 
campaign closed gloriously with a 100% subscription, totalling $2801. 


Our evening of corridor stunts opened with a highly successful musical 
number presented, so we were told, by the Tin Can Alley Symphony Orchestra. 
Now to just what part of our busy metropolis the aforesaid alley refers we are 
not sure, although we may venture to guess that it designates that bizarre 
and Greenwichian community, the fourth floor wing. But it matters not 
whence it came; suffice it that, with its stunning and spontaneous productions 
it charmed and delighted the enthusiastic audience beyond the footlights. 
With our spirits lifted by this soul-inspiring number we plunged for a too brief 
visit to that paradise of naughty little boys and dainty little girls, a dancing 



school, from which scene of juvenile joys we were brought back suddenly 
and strikingly to the stern realities of life by a picture of the trials of the 
study-room. When our ears and consciences were beginning to burn hotly at 
this scandalous betrayal of truths, the curtain mercifully closed. Ah! Now 
we should doubtless see somthing a little less offensive to our sensitive feelings. 
Nay, say not so. Vain were our hopes, for we waited only to be confronted 
with an even more cruelly humorous picture of ourselves as others see us. 
Where we got all those extra feet and hands Heaven only knows, but there 
they were, faithfully portrayed in the painful scene entitled "The Abbot 
Battalion Drills". But Ha! What have we here? A movie, we murmur in 
wonder and awe, a movie, such a thing as we have not seen for three long 
months! Wonderful, marvelous! Here we have one right in our midst, and 
what is mofe, with all the delightful young gentlemen we could wish for in the 
wildest dreams of a Friday night. And that leads us to the last of these side- 
lights on self with which we were presented, "Friday Evening at Abbot 
Academy". No need to go into the details of that realistic scene, for we know 
it from a to z, from movement to movement, from bell to bell! And so ended 
this highly enjoyable, if illuminating, evening with many expressions of regret 
that there were not more of them. But only think, there's another one coming 
next term ! 


This, as everyone remembers, was to have been a basketball year and we 
were all looking forward to the Bradford game. But owing to the influenza 
epidemic it was impossible for either school to get a team into proper shape, 
so that we were obliged to be content with the Hare and Hound Chase for 
our annual meeting. However, squads of enthusiasts appeared on the courts 
daily, and though no class games were played, basketball was very much in 
evidence throughout the fall. 

There were only two class games in hockey this year, both of which were 
won by the Senior-Mids and Juniors against the Seniors and Junior-Mids, 
with the score 2-0, 4-2. From the looks of things at present we may judge 
that Bradford will have to look to her laurels when we meet her next year. 

The tennis tournament went off much as usual this fall save for the delay 
caused by the epidemic. In the single finals Betty Wright defeated Elinor 
Sutton with the score 6-2, 2-6, 6-4, thereby winning the championship cup . 
The doubles were won by Betty Wright and Louise Clement against Elinor. 
Sutton and Louise Robinson. 

On Saturday, November 2nd, a very happy and unusual event occurred. 
Bradford, our worthy opponent, came to Abbot for its biennial visit; but not 
as a rival this time. On account of the influenza epidemic and the consequent 
luck of preparation for the usual basketball game, the two schools decided to 
have a Hare and Hound Chase. The Bradford Seniors ran with the Seniors 
of Abbot as the Hares, and the Senior-Middle classes of the two schools took 
the part of Hounds. Members of the lower classes were also on these teams. 



After one short week of preparation and tryouts, the day on which the 
contest was to be held came, snappy, but clear and bright. From the minute 
our guests arrived the friendly spirit between the two schools wa9 apparent. 
Abbot and Bradford girls were mingled together, and everyone seemed to be 
having a very happy time. We watched the start of the race from the slope 
in front of the Infirmary. During this time the schools sang to each other 
and to their respective teams. While waiting for the finish of the contest, 
we took the Bradford girls around our grounds, and danced with them in 
Davis Hall. The Hares won the game, 9 to 7. 

After the race we had a picnic at Pomps Pond. The Senior classes of both 
schools, the officers of the school organizations, the members of the teams, 
and the faculty were all there. We broiled "hot dogs" on sticks over the 
bonfires, toasted marshmallows, and consumed sandwiches, olives, pickles, 
apples, and everything else that one has at a picnic. 

We were all glad of the opportunity of getting into closer touch with the 
Bradford girls, whose lives and interests and aims are so like our own. 

fjonor Koll 


Virginia Miller, Elizabeth Flagg 92 

Julia Abbe 91 

Dorothea Flagg, Paulina Miller, Nathalie Page, Elinor Sutton 90 
Natalie Bartlett, Mary Bushnell, Beatrice Goff, Helen Locke, Gertrude 

Lombard, Marjorie Miles 89 

Elizabeth Armstrong, Eliza Bailey, Ruth Hathaway, Martha Morse, 

Marian Nichols, Leonore Wickersham, Helen Wygant 88 

3tems of (Seneral interest 

At the January meeting of the Board of Trustees Mr. Flagg announced the 
generous gift to the school of $20,100 by Mr. George B. Davis of North 
Andover. The terms of the gift provide that the income from the fund shall 
be used for the upkeep, as it may be required, of Davis Hall and the Dorothy 
Davis Simpson organ, the balance to be used for the general educational needs 
of the school. It will be remembered that Mr. Davis gave Davis Hall in 
memory of his father, and that the organ was the gift of his daughter, Mrs. 
Dorothy Davis Simpson. At the same meeting Mr. Flagg announced a 
gift of $1000 by Mrs. Ella Jenkins Smith of the class of 1872, in memory of 
her mother of the class of 1845. This money is to be laid aside as a separate 
fund to be known as the Rebecca Farnham Jenkins Endowment. 

At a meeting of the New England Association of Secondary Schools and 
Colleges in Jacob Sleeper Hall in Boston early in December, Miss Bailey was 
one of four speakers to talk on the subject "After Victory — What?" Miss 
Bailey's exposition of her belief in the supreme importance of the spiritual side 



in education was very eloquent, and was received with enthusiastic interest. 
Miss Bailey was also one of the speakers at the inauguration of Miss Coats as 
principal of Bradford Academy on December 16th. 

Dr. Page of Phillips Academy has kindly offered to take charge of military 
drill and so enable us to continue the military training which we found so 
interesting and helpful last year. 

Classes in Home Nursing for the Seniors are being conducted by our resident 
nurse, Mrs. Boutelle. 

Rhythmic Expression work has been resumed this year under the direction 
of Miss Emily Adams. 

Mr. and Mrs. Ward, who own the farm on Prospect Hill, have very kindly 
offered the use of their little camp for picnic parties from the school. The 
officers of the school organizations have already taken advantage of this offer. 

Rev. Markham W. Stackpole was transferred only two weeks before the 
armistice from the regiment with which he had served ever since he went to 
the training camp at Boxford, in the summer of 1917, and is now base chaplain 
at Marseilles. He is organizing the chaplaincy in new leave areas and con- 
valescent hospitals in the Riviera. 

We were very sorry to hear of the illness of Mr. Forrest Dryden in August. 
A very serious operation for mastoiditis was found necessary, which was 
followed by a slow convalescence. By October he was able to be about again. 
Mrs. Dryden was chairman for the State of New Jersey for the Y. W. C. A., 
and chairman of the Newark district for the Christmas Membership Roll Call 
of the Red Cross. The two organizations, Y. W. C. A. and Red Cross, kept 
Mrs. Dryden very busy all last winter. She was vice-chairman and chairman 
of the Membership Bureau of the Red Cross in Newark — a district which 
had approximately 100,000 members. Her son is first lieutenant in the 
Ordnance and has been serving in Washington as secretary of the Ordnance 
Priorities Committee. 

Mrs. John Phelps Taylor is spending the winter at the Hotel Somerset in 
Boston. She came to Andover in December for the organ recital by M. Bonnet 
of Paris, at which the new organ in Stone Chapel was dedicated. The chimes 
of the organ were given by Mrs. Taylor in memory of Professor Taylor. 

Miss Harriet Bixby began training as telephone operator, intending to go 
overseas in the service, but after the armistice changed her plan, and is taking 
the scientific course at Jackson College. She expects to specialize in chemistry. 

Miss Margaret Elliott was working for the Government from July to 
January in the industrial service section of the Ordnance Department. She 
was in charge of conditions of work for women at the Watertown Arsenal, 
under General Tracy C. Dickson, as commanding officer. 

Miss King's address in Holyoke is 133 Chestnut Street. 

We were shocked to learn this fall of the death of Miss Parkhurst's brother. 
He was in the tank service in France, and he died of pneumonia there. 

Miss Runner is living with her sister in New Canaan, Connecticut. Twice 
a week she goes to New York for lessons in Italian conversation. She hopes 
to do Immigration Community Work among the Italians. 



Miss Carson is in France doing reconstruction work. 

Elizabeth Tyler went to France in August to be secretary and chauffeur for 
Miss Edith May, who was Red Cross Inspector of hospitals for tubercular 
French soldiers. Miss May's work has recently been given up and Miss Tyler 
is now working in the Refugee Bureau. She enlisted for a year. Her address 
is Care Morgan, Harjes, 31 boulevard Haussmann, Paris. 

Miss Harriet Payne is doing Red Cross work in the Children's Welfare- 
Bureau in Paris. 

We were very sorry to learn of the death in France in an airplane accident 
of Lieutenant Whitehead, to whom Miss Edith Metcalf was engaged. Miss 
Metcalf is at present in the Home Communication Service in France. 

Mrs. Biscoe (formerly Agnes Slocum), with her husband and four children, 
is living this winter at 125 Jackson Street-, Newton Center. Mr. Biscoe has 
come east for a year to do housing department work for the Government. 

Mrs. William Walker Rockwell (Miss Converse) is on the National Board of 
the Y. W. C. A. and is chairman of the publication department. 

Miss Ethel Priscilla Potter has been doing splendid war work this winter. 
She is recreational director for the blinded soldiers at United States Army 
General Hospital No. 7, in Baltimore. 

Miss Melita Knowles is still teaching at the Brearley School in New York 
City. Her address is 317 West 45th Street. 

An interesting and able woman died in September, who for a brief period 
touched and influenced the life of Abbot Academy. Miss Sarah J. Foster was 
a teacher in 1857-58, soon after graduating from Mount Holyoke Seminary. 
She married Rev. Samuel A. Rhea, and was missionary and teacher in Persia 
for nine years. Her husband having died, she then became the first field 
secretary of the Presbyterian Woman's Board of the Northwest, and traveled 
widely, stimulating synods, presbyteries and assemblies in the cause of mis- 
sions. It is noted as an evidence of her pioneer work that she was the first 
woman to address the Presbyterian General Assembly. 

Albert M. Usher, son of Mrs. Adela Payson Usher, formerly teacher at 
Abbot Academy, died of wounds in France in October. Another son, Roland, 
became well known as the author of " Pan-Germanism ". 

Hlumnae Botes 

The notes in this issue have largely to do with war activities and the honors 
as well as the sorrows that have come through the war into the homes of 
Abbot girls. Other facts to complete the War Service Record (kept in a card 
list), both of present and former students and their immediate families, will 
be gratefully received by Miss Carpenter. This record will surely be of value 
in the coming years as evidence of the variety of service rendered, and the 
loyal and patriotic response of the Abbot Academy family to the country's call. 

fl863. The brave spirit of Lucy F. Partridge, who died in November, was 
not daunted by the handicap of deafness, which compelled her to give up her 
beloved work of teaching colored students at Talladega College, in Alabama. 
She kept so closely in touch by letter with those who had been her pupils, as 
they were scattered over the South in different lines of work, that the extent 
of her helpful influence in many homes cannot be measured. They wrote her 
their problems, she gave advice and encouragement, and also practical help 
in the way of clothing, which she gathered from friends, and sorted with the 
most intelligent and sympathetic care, according to the need of each family, 
often sending with an article a little note of suggestion as to how it might be 
made over or prove most useful. This far-reaching service of friendship was 
her way of helping the world. 

fl868. A happy occasion was the reunion in June of ten members of the 
fifty-year class (including one non-graduate), surely a remarkable showing 
when it is known that the living graduates number only twelve. It was a 
delight to see them engaged in eager talk as they sat about their round table 
at the outdoor luncheon on Commencement Day, and to hear their earnest 
words and spicy reminiscences at the Alumnae meeting. They made a sub- 
stantial gift to the school, a thousand dollar Liberty Bond, to be added to the 
fund for the Chair of Literature, in memory of Miss Phebe McKeen. Those 
present were Harriett (Abbott) Clark ("Mother Endeavor" Clark), Katharine 
(Chapin) Higgins of Worcester, Rebecca (Davis) Spalding of New York, 
Clara (Fisher) Baldwin of Roxbury, Henrietta (Learoyd) Sperry of Boston, 
Octavia (Putnam) Thompson of Quincy, Elizabeth C. Sewall of Wellesley 
Hills, Mary A. Spalding of Boston, Abby (Stearns) Spaulding of Clifton 
Springs, N. Y., and Margaret (Duncan) Phillips of Salem. 

|1868. Alice French has been most active in war work in Iowa. She was 
a member of the Committee for Patriotic Meetings of the Woman's National 
Council for Defense for Iowa, and found it a large task to arrange programs, 
transportation of speakers, and other details for large meetings all over the 
state. It was largely because of this work that she was unable to come to her 
class reunion, where she was greatly missed. 

1869. Mrs. Ida Morrill McCurdy's son, Captain Sidney McCurdy, has been 
cited for distinguished conduct. As surgeon with the 18th Infantry, he was in 



the thick of the fighting, and was for several weeks in the hospital with infection 
resulting from conditions of life at the front. Robert is in Washington ordering 
books for camp libraries, and Allan was for a time in the aviation production 
department at Buffalo, N. Y. 

fl874. In an article in the Boston Traveler of January 7th, Mrs. George 
Gutterson urges "the spirit of democracy and responsibility in the home as 
the basis of the training of children". 

fl876. News of the death, in September, of Rev. Lyndon S. Crawford, 
husband of Olive Twichell and father of Leslie Crawford Hun, tl900, came 
weeks afterward by cable through the Associated Press. Isolated for many 
months by war conditions in the city of Trebizond, Turkey, Dr. and Mrs. 
Crawford resolutely put aside the opportunity to escape, and gave themselves 
utterly to the needs of all within their reach, going through the bombardments 
of two sieges, and witnessing the untold sufferings due to Turkish persecution. 
Theirs was a daily heroism, cut off as they have been from home news, and 
much of the time with insufficient or unsuitable food, with no associates and 
often with hundreds clinging to them for protection and sympathy and some- 
times for sustenance. It is expected that Mrs. Crawford will come home to 
America as soon as the way is open. 

tl877. Josephine Richards Gile's youngest son, Harold, an aviation officer, 
was taken prisoner in the early summer, and was in prison camp at the Land- 
shut. His family received the joyful news of his release before Christmas. 
Another son, Clement, was connected with the submarine serv ice. 

fl878. Mrs. Nellie Abbott Sawyer's son, Francis, recently called on Miss 
Agnes Park in Andover and brought news to her of all the family. Two 
other sons were in the service overseas. Their father died last spring at 
their home in Owatonna, Minn. 

fl881. At a metropolitan meeting in Boston for the Fourth Liberty Loan 
three Abbot friends were surprised to meet as chairmen of the women's com- 
mittees of their home towns. They were Margaret Fowle Sears of Woburn, 
Josephine Wilcox of Medford, and Mary Bartlett Walton, |1880, of Wakefield. 

fl883. Mary R. Hillard, principal of the Westover School, Middlebury, Ct., 
has recently been given the honorary degree of L.H.D. by the University of 

fl889. Kathleen Jones has resigned her position as librarian at McLean 
Hospital, and is now field representative for New England of the American 
Library Association, establishing and supervising libraries in base hospitals. 

1889. Alice Conant Wadleigh's son, Theodore, died in September of 
pneumonia, following influenza. He had just entered Dartmouth College. 

1891. A letter recently appeared in the Transcript from an American 
officer in France, telling of his discovery in an abandoned dugout of a stirring 
story of Texas ranch life called "The Cowboy Cavalier". The book was badly 
water-soaked, but the officer dried it out to pass on to other boys. The 
author of the book was Harriet C. Morse (Mrs. Nicholas Richardson). 

1892. Fanny Gordon Bartlett is one of the mothers who has bravely 
given a son to the Great Cause. Gordon enlisted in the American Ambulance 



Corps before the United States entered the war, and won the Croix de Guerre 
in that service. He died of wounds on September 17th in France, at the age 
of nineteen years. 

1892. Mary Beal Stephenson writes of their distressing experience last 
fall in Duluth. "The forest fire came very near to wiping out our entire city. 
The fires — carried by a perfect hurricane of wind — were on three sides of 
us, and cold Lake Superior on the fourth. Mr. Stephenson worked all one night 
bringing in refugees and for two weeks could not go to his office. He had to 
help at the Armory, the headquarters for the relief work. Our church opened 
its doors for sixty cots, and as president of the Guild I had charge. We lodged 
nearly 600 people in the two weeks and served 1405 meals." 

fl894. There was great rejoicing in Honolulu when it was learned that 
Mabel Bosher Scudder would return this fall from Tokio as principal of 
Kawaiahao Seminary. Dr. Scudder was among the first called from Tokio 
for service with the American Red Cross in Siberia. Little Katherine, now over 
a year old, will of course be with her mother in Honolulu. 

fl897. Mary Smith Churchill has been awarded a gold medal from a 
French Society, in appreciation of her work among tubercular patients, and 
of her efforts in establishing emergency stations in Paris, for the relief of vic- 
tims of air raids and bombardments. Brigadier General Churchill has recently 
been made a Commander of the Crown of Italy by King Victor Emmanuel, in 
recognition of his great services to the Allies. As chief of the military intelli- 
gence department, he accompanied President Wilson to the Paris Peace Con- 
ference. He has just been made an Officer of the Legion by the French Govern- 

1897. Dr. Watson L. Wasson, husband of Pearl Randall, died in Sep- 
tember. He was the superintendent of the Vermont State Hospital for the 
Insane and was an authority on mental diseases. 

1898. Harriet Lord, who has been teaching in the Lawrence High School 
ever since her graduation from Mount Holyoke, has been a strong force for 
good in the school and the city. Before the United States entered the war, 
she organized home nursing classes under the Special Aid Society which were 
afterward transferred to the Red Cross, and has arranged for them ever since. 
She is also head of the Junior Red Cross in the school. A most important and 
growing work in Lawrence is the International Institute Branch of the 
Y.W.C.A., of which she is chairman. This a is settlement with four centers, 
giving helpful opportunities to young women of other races. 

1898. Elizabeth Goodhue's husband, Dr. Claude M. Fuess, has returned 
to Phillips Academy after a leave of absence in the service. He was com- 
missioned major in recognition of his able work in systematizing and directing 
the complex affairs of the personnel board at Camp Johnston, Florida. Her 
brother, Abbot, has been appointed by the Treasury Department one of three 
on an Inter-Allied Finance Committee, to negotiate loans between the United 
States and the Allies and neutral countries. 

1898. Margaret Whittemore is supervisor of model teaching in domestic 
science in the College of Industrial Arts, Denton, Texas. 



fl899. Mary Marland Littleton has found plenty to do in the war ac- 
tivities of her city of Augusta, Ga., especially because of a soldiers' camp 
nearby. She has been second lieutenant of a canteen team, a member of the 
executive board of the local Red Cross chapter, and secretary of the Y.W.C.A. 
War Council and of the Augusta branch of the Women's Council of National 

fl899. May Young's husband, Channing H. Cox, formerly Speaker of the 
Massachusetts Legislature, is now Lieutenant Governor of the state. 

fl900. W. Huston Lillard, husband of Ethel Hazen, received this fall his 
commission as captain in the Adjutant General's Department. 

fl900. Helen P. Abbott has charge of the Players House at Camp Upton, 
where entertainments are given for the soldiers. 

fl900. In the exhibition of American artists in the shop windows of the 
Avenue of the Allies in New York, for the Fourth Liberty Loan, Arthur Speer 
(husband of Grace Chapman Speer) had a picture of the Kaiser wounding 
with his bayonet the crucified figure of Christ. 

fl901. Evelyn Carter has this winter been taking a course in occupational 
therapy, in preparation for being a reconstruction aid. 

1901. Helen Whittemore went to France in September as a Red Cross 
nurse, and has been for a part of the time at a base hospital not far from Lyons. 

|1902. Mercer Mason Kemper has taken a house near Fitchburg this 
winter. Her address is Qualons, Massachusetts, R.F.D. No. 1. Anne Mason 
Gregory and her four children visited Mercer in November, and Anne and 
Mercer and Colonel Kemper and Lucy Ord came to Abbot one Sunday after- 

1902. Mr. and Mrs. Hermon H. Handy (Leonora Keeney) with their two 
children are living on Pineywoods Avenue, Springfield, Mass. 

fl904. Mr. and Mrs. Alden W. Baldwin (Helen E. Childs) and their 
daughter, Elizabeth, have moved from Philadelphia, and are living at 42 
Cherryvale Avenue, Springfield. 

fl905. Elizabeth Cole is associate editor of the Andover Townsman, pub- 
lished by her father. She is taking up the new work with characteristic 
enthusiasm and ability. 

fl906. During the spring and summer Constance Parker Chipman was 
living in Chicago, where Mr. Chipman was engaged in Y.M.C.A. work. In 
the fall she returned to Winchester and is spending the winter with her mother. 

fl906. Marjorie Bellows is living at 1654 Massachusetts Avenue, Cam- 

fl906. Sarah Hincks, after a year of teaching at Mount Holyoke, has been 
recalled to Vassar as instructor in the English department. 

fl906. Maud Sprague got up a food, vegetable and flower sale in the 
summer, which netted over one hundred dollars for reconstruction work in 
Fontenoy, France. Her brother, Arthur, in the ambulance service, was cited 
"for distinguished conduct in the counter attack of the Americans at Soissons ". 

fl907. Margaret Hall Wright's brother, Lieutenant Gordon Hall, died in 
September of wounds received in the fighting in the Argonne Forest. 



fl907. We are very sorry to tell of the death from influenza last fall of 
Mr. Ellsworth Turner Rundlett, husband of Christine Wyer. Betty Wyer 
French and her little son are staying with Christine while Major French is in 

fl908. Marion Allchin went to France last spring to do recreation camp 
work for the Y.M.C.A. She has been stationed at Lyons. 

fl908. Esther Parker has gone to France to do canteen work under the 

fl909. Mary Bell Gilbert's husband, Mr. William G. McBride, died from 
pneumonia just three weeks after the birth of their daughter. 

tl909. Florence MacCreadie has come to Bradford Academy as head of 
the Mathematics department. During the summer she was drill sergeant at 
Keewayden Camp for girls in Brewster. 

fl910. Clarissa Hall has had four brothers in the service, two of whom are 
still in France. Merwin was wounded in the Argonne Forest, but has nearly 

fl910. Edith Flynn's husband, Ensign Joseph A. Bain, has been engaged 
in transport service between the United States and France. 

fl911. Charlote Gowing has been doing reconstruction work in an army 
hospital in New Jersey. 

fl911. Dorothy Bigelow is taking the course at the Boston School of 
Physical Education this winter. 

tl911. Rev. Fletcher D. Parker of New Bedford, Katharine Ordway's 
husband, has been appointed to the important position of secretary and super- 
intendent of the Boston City Missionary Society, to succeed Dr. Waldron. 

fl911. Frances Pray is teaching in St. Mary's School, Concord, New 

1911. Elizabeth Hincks is working with the Vocation Bureau of the Board 
of Education in Cincinnati, Ohio. She is helping Mrs. Woolley, a well-known 
psychologist. Part of her work is testing the mentality of children. 

1911. Margaret Strong's brother, Ellsworth, a brilliant young lieutenant, 
was killed in action in August. He was the grandson of Elizabeth Mitchell, 
1845, of Aubumdale. 

fl912. During the fall months Barbara Moore was at the Army School of 
Nursing in the Walter Reed Hospital in Washington. 

fl913. Marion Martin Teeson has moved from Cambridge to New Haven, 
where her address until spring will be 114 High Street. Ruth Niles Thompson, 
1911, is also living in New Haven at 948 Elm Street. 

fl913. Esther Pickels has taken a three months' war course this year in 
bacteriology at the Institute of Technology. 

11913. Jane Newton Sheldon's husband was discharged from the service 
in December and they have returned to Minneapolis to live. 

|1913. While her husband is in France, Marion Gould Smith is assisting 
Mr. Clark Carter, the city missionary of Lawrence, and has won high praise 
from him for her efficiency. 



tl913. Margaret Wilkins's father, Brigadier General H. E. Wilkins, is 
stationed in New York, 8th Avenue and 34th Street. Margaret was in Wash- 
ington in the fall working for the food administration, is now doing canteen 
work, and plans to give three days a week to the Greenhut Hospital for Over- 
seas Wounded. 

1913. On America's roll of honor is the name of Lieutenant Earle Billings 
(husband of Ruth Jenkins), who was killed in action in France last July. 
Ruth has gone to Williamsport, Pennsylvania, to stay with Kathie Jenkins 

1913. Elizabeth Brigham Roth's husband has come to Phillips Academy 
as instructor in History. They are living in Taylor Hall. 

1913. Barbara Paine Morse's husband is first lieutenant in the 302nd 
Field Artillery and is expected home from France soon. Her brother, Lansing, 
was in the American Ambulance Field Service for nine months, and was 
awarded the Croix de Guerre in August, 1917, for his work during the Verdun 
attack. It was a divisional citation, so that he wears a silver star on the ribbon. 

1913. Helen Gilbert has been doing canteen work evenings all through the 
fall, and in the daytime has been working for the Vocational Guidance Bureau 
of Harvard. In December she applied to the Y.M.C.A. to be sent as canteen 
worker to France. She passed her examination and hoped to be sent across 
in January. 

fl914. Helen Burk is at the United States General Hospital, 6, Fort 
McPherson, Georgia. 

fl914. Frances Dowd teaches nature study two days a week at "The 
Children's School" at 34 West 68th Street, New York City. She is also con- 
tinuing at Teachers' College her training to be a supervisor of public school 
music. Her three brothers are all in the service; George and Douglas have been 
with the Expeditionary Forces in France, Douglas being in action on the front 
from July to the armistice. 

fl914. Elsie Gleason, Lucretia Lowe and Lillian Conroy were all in the 
graduating class at Radcliffe in June. Elsie is now working at the Old Colony 
Trust Company on Temple Place, Boston, and Lucretia has a post-graduate 
scholarship at Radcliffe. Lillian has been appointed a teacher in the English 
department of the Salem High School. 

|1914. Elisabeth Bartlett is doing Spanish Censorship work for the 
Government in New York. Her address is 130 East 24th Street. 

fl914. Helen Hamblet is taking a course in reconstruction work in a 
Boston hospital. 

fl914. Alice Sweeney is working this winter in the Quartermaster Depart- 
ment in Washington. 

|1914. Katharine Selden volunteered as a nurse last summer and was 
assigned to the Walter Reed Hospital in Washington. She was summoned in 
October by an emergency call for nurses to Camp Humphries, Virginia, to help 
in the influenza epidemic. She resigned her position in December and is now 
studying at the Cambridge School of Landscape Architecture. 



fl915. Charlotte Morris worked on a farm near Lodi, New York, last 

fl915. Ada Wilkey is stenographer for Mr. Brewer Eddy at 14 Beacon 
Street, Boston. 

fl915. Eleanor Bartlett Atwater spent Thanksgiving in Andover. She is 
living in Maybeury, West Virginia. 

fl915. Phyllis and Gwendolyn Brooks are both living at the Stuart Club 
in Boston. Phyllis is at the Pierce Shorthand School and Gwendolyn is con- 
tinuing her work in art at Miss Child's School. Their brother, Alden, has 
received the French Croix de Guerre with a silver star. 

1915. Lieutenant Alexander Bruce of the American Aerial forces was 
reported killed in action in August. He was a brother of Helen Bruce. 

1915. Josephine Tonner is briefing commercial correspondence for the 
State Department at Washington. 

|1916. Vera Allen, Edith Benson, Mary Flemming, and Gertrude Shackle- 
ton were all in the graduating class at Miss Wheelock's Kindergarten School 
last June. Vera is teaching this winter in Proctor, Vermont. 

fl916. Dorothy Pillsbury is working at the Boys' Reading Club, on 
Tileston street in the North End. She is living with the Guttersons, 39 
Kirkland Street, Cambridge. 

fl916. Josephine Walker has been in Home Service work at Concord, N. H. 

fl916. Agnes Grant has been elected a member of the Mathematics Club 
at Smith College. Other societies of which she is a member are Alpha, The 
Telescopian and the Physics Club. 

fl916. Mildred Jenkins has charge of a lunch-room at the Technical High 
School in Newtonville. 

1916. Dorothy Cole is at Russell Sage College, Troy, N. Y., specializing 
in art, and working for a B.S. degree. 

fl917. Ruth Jackson is stenographer for Dr. Barton of the American 
Board of Foreign Missions at 14 Beacon Street, Boston. 

tl917. Frances Gere's address is 535 Oak Street, Syracuse, New York. 

fl917. Elizabeth Bacon is at Abbot Academy this year as supervisor of 
Day Scholars and assistant in the office. 

fl917. Miriam Bacon is taking the nurses' training course at the Salem 

tl917. Lucy Atwood is doing Home Service work with the Red Cross in 

|1917. Catherine Yeakle is doing secretarial work in Philadelphia. 

fl917. Rachel Olmstead has been taking this fall an intensive course in 
Draughting and Mechanical Drawing at the Chandler School for Women in 
Boston. She is living at 14 Garden Street, Cambridge. 

1917. Katherine Chen went to the Cornell Summer School at Ithaca last 
summer, where she took courses in analytic geometry, calculus, and an English 
course on Browning and Tennyson. There were eleven Chinese girls there and 
Katherine and two others lived together and did their own cooking. In 



September she went to Syracuse for the Chinese Student Conference, and later 
in the month returned to Delaware. She has decided to study medicine and 
hopes to go to Johns Hopkins in the fall of 1920. 

1917. Margaret Van Voorhis is doing girls' club work in Zanesville, Ohio, 
her home town. We were very sorry to hear of her mother's death in January. 

fl917. Carita Bigelow has received honors for Freshman work for scholar- 
ship at Wellesley College and has also been elected a member of the House 
of Representatives. 

|1917. Esther Hungerford has been taking the training course for student 
nursing at the base hospital at Camp Upton, Yaphank, New York. 

fl917. Donald Emery, Doris Emery's brother, has been cited for "ex- 
traordinary heroism" in action near Dickenbush, France, August 22, 1918. 
" Displaying an absolute disregard of danger in caring for wounded under shell 
and rifle fire and a continuous cheerfulness under trying conditions, his cour- 
ageous example was inspiring to his comrades." 

1 1917. Mary Church and Marion McPherson did emergency nursing 
among the poorer people during the influenza epidemic in Boston. 

f 1917. Cornelia Sargent is working this winter for the law firm of Channing 
and Frothingham in Boston. 

fl917. Mildred Gilmore as a dental hygienist is with Dr. Brown at 43 
Beacon Street, Boston. 

fl917. Dorothy Small has been in New York this winter. She has been 
inspecting gas masks for the Gas Defense department on Long Island. 

fl918. Of last year's college seniors, Louise Stilwell, Louise Colby and 
Julie Sherman have gone to Vassar, Avalita Howe, Lois Lindsay and Elizabeth 
Gray to Mount Holyoke, Helen French, Ruth Allen, Gay Miller and Betty 
Holmes to Smith, Dorothy Fairfield, Catherine McReynolds, Emmavail Luce 
and Mary Jepherson to Wellesley, and Margaret Speer to Bryn Mawr. Emma- 
vail has been made president of the Freshman class at Wellesley. Avalita is 
captain of the Mount Holyoke Freshman basketball team. Dorothy Fairfield is 
class cheer leader and on the Freshman basketball team. Margaret Speer, 
Catherine McReynolds and Gay Miller were very ill with influenza in the fall, 
and Gay was unable to return to college after Christmas. 

1 19 18. Mildred Greenough was doing canteen work last summer. She is 
taking a business course now. Her mother died December 9th. 

|1918. Helen Robertson is working for the Tyer Rubber Company in 

1 19 18. Katharine Righter is working in a bank in New York. She had the 
influenza this fall. 

1 1918. Marion McPherson did emergency work for the influenza this fall. 
She has been in Miss Bouve's School of Gymnastics. 

fl918. Mary Kunkel has been taking a nurse's training course in Phila- 

|1918. Natalie Weed has been doing canteen work, and is a librarian in the 
Associated Charities at Newburgh. 



fl918. Dorothy Stalker is a stenographer in Boston. 

1 1918. Velma Rowell is taking a kindergarten course at Miss Wheelock's 
School. Her father died soon after school closed last summer. 

fl918. Helen Martin is at Keene Normal School, Keene, N. H. 

fl918. Marion Hubbard is taking a kindergarten course at Miss Wheel- 
ock's School. 

fl918. Ruth Eaton is taking a post-graduate course at Pine Manor, Dana 

fl918. Ruth Clark was hurt in a bad automobile accident and has been in 
the hospital most of the fall. In January she began the course at Miss Pierce's 
Secretarial School, where Beatrice Kenyon has been studying all the winter. 

fl918. Louise Bacon and Dorothy Culler are taking a course at Bryant and 
Stratton's Business School in Boston. 

fl918. Virginia Vincent and Natalie Proudfit are both taking courses at 
Columbia University, Virginia in advertising, and Natalie in short-story 

fl918. Dorothy Bushnell has opened a morning school for little children at 
her home in Andover. 

fl918. Irene Atwood has been taking a two months' Red Cross course in 
business at Boston University. 

fl918. Katharine Pinckney is studying at the Pierce Shorthand School in 

fl918. Clarissa Horton is studying at a kindergarten school in Springfield. 
She has a private kindergarten of forty little children to help teach. 

fl918. Margaret Morris is studying organ in Philadelphia. 

fl918. Elizabeth Doolin was at Russell Sage College this last fall, but had 
to leave because of influenza. Mary Davis was also there during the fall term. 

fl918. Margaret Hinchcliffe is at Framingham Normal School, Framing- 
ham, Mass. 

1918. Helen Leaycraft is in the New York State Woman's Motor Corps, 
stationed in New York. 


Sylvia Gutterson, t!916, Agnes Grant, fl916, Miriam Bacon, fl917, Louise 
Bacon, fl918, Mary Church, fl917, Eugenia Parker, fl916, Emma Stohn, 
tl916, Caroline Saunders Wilkinson, 1892, Amy Blodgett Moore, fl905, Irene 
Atwood, fl918, Elizabeth Gray, fl918, Dorothy Fairfield, fl918, Eleanor 
Bartlett Atwater, |1915, Adeline Perry Walker, fl890, Josephine Walker, 
fl916, Clara Thomson Blackford, fl901, Charlotte Fleming, |1916, Mrs. 
Biscoe, Helen Snow, 1918, Miss Elliott, Helen Robertson, fl918, Honora 
Spalding, fl902, Miss Pettingell, Miss Parkhurst, Miss King, Katrina William- 
son, 1906, Katharine Odell, fl916, Ruth Farrington, fl918, Alice Littlefield, 
fl917, Emmavail Luce, fl918, Julie Sherman, |1918, Katherine Gage Cox, 
1888, Mercer Mason Kemper, fl902, Anne Mason Gregory, fl903. Elizabeth 
Holmes, |1918. 




1913. Alice S. Knox to Mr. Pierce Brentwood Ellison. 

1916. Irene Cora Baush to Mr. Henry Francis Hanmer. 

tl918. Julie Pfingst Sherman to Ensign Howard L. Tibbetts of Winchester. 

fl918. Elizabeth Holmes to Lieutenant Roy E. Wyatt. 


1892. Knowles— Hill. In Boston, July 6, 1918, Ella Augusta Hill to 
Mr. Louis Wingate Knowles. At home, 318 Tecumseh Avenue, Mount Vernon, 
New York. 

tl901. Studdiford — Reed. In Belmont, August 27, 1918, Margaret 
Appleton Reed to Douglas Seabrook Studdiford, First Lieutenant, United 
States Reserve. 

1912. Marjerison — Temple. In Andover, December 7, 1918, Beatrice 
Temple to Dr. Howard M. Marjerison. At home, 24 Prescott Street, Cam- 

1913. Field — Fletcher. In Andover, December 12, 1918, Hertha 
Morton Fletcher to Mr. John Howe Field, Jr. At home in Maybeury, West 

1913. Morse— Paine. In Durham, N. H., June 15, 1918, Barbara M. 
Paine to Lieutenant Adrian O. Morse. 

fl914. Myerscough — Clark. In Hot Springs, Ark., May 11, 1918, 
Marion Clark to Lieutenant Joseph W. Myerscough, of Andover. 

fl914. Spruance — Whipple. In Santa Ana, California, June 12, 1918, 
Elsie Johnson Whipple to Doctor Horace Evans Spruance, Assistant Surgeon 
United States Navy. 

fl915. Atwater — Bartlett. In Andover, August 10, 1918, Eleanor 
Wilder Bartlett to Mr. David Hay Atwater. At home, Maybeury, West 

fl915. Salzman— Shinn. June 29, 1918, Esther Sheldon Shinn to Mr. 
Bertrand Benjamin Salzman. 

1915. Wiilliamson — Bissell. In Indianapolis, Indiana, November 4, 
1918, Elizabeth Knight Bissell to Lieutenant George Morrison Williamson. 

1915. Page — Goodrich. In Marblehead, October 5, 1918, Mariette, 
Goodrich to Mr. William Merryman Page. 

1915. Bellows — Gilbert. In Bolton, November 9, 1918, Dorothy 
Gilbert to Mr. Lyman Hubbard Bellows. At home, 40 Williams Street, 

fl916. Pearson — Gutterson. In Cambridge, November 9, 1918, Sylvia 
Gutterson to Ensign Philip Clifton Pearson. 

fl917. Smith— Davis. In Bridgeport, Connecticut, July 13, 1918, Esther 
Kinney Davis to Lieutenant Andrew Raymond Smith, Aviation Section, 
Signal Reserve Corps, United States Army. 



fl917. Paegel— Gilmore. In Wellesley Hills, December 21, 1918, Mildred 
Ada Gilmore to Mr. Hollis Arthur Paegel, Lieutenant Aviation Corps, 
United States Army. 


|1900. In Cambridge, December 22, 1918, a son to Mr. and Mrs. Horace 
Taylor (Constance Gutterson). 

1900. In Quincy, 111., October 2, 1918, a son, Alfred, to Mr. and Mrs. 
Alfred Castle (Eleanor Thomson). 

1902. March 27, 1917, a son, William Lafayette, to Mr. and Mrs. Herman 
H. Hadley (Leonora Keeny). 

1902. August 29, 1918, a daughter, Eudora Denison, to Mr and Mrs. 
Herman H. Handy (Leonora Keeney). 

fl904. In Springfield, January 15, 1919, a daughter, Ruth Childs, to Mr. 
and Mrs. Alden W. Baldwin (Helen E. Childs). 

fl909. In Denver, Colorado, November 30, 1918, a daughter, Elizabeth, 
to Mr. and Mrs. William G. MacBride (Mary Bell Gilbert). 

fl911. In New Britain, Connecticut, April 21, 1918, a son, Elbridge Noble, 
to Lieutenant and Mrs. Louis S. Jones (Jessie Wightman). 

fl911. August 17, 1918, a daughter, Lillian Emery, to Mr. and Mrs. 
William S. Sagar (Lillian Walworth), of New Bedford. 

fl913. October 23, 1918, a daughter, Jean, to Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Patter- 
son (Enid Baush). 

fl913. In Brookline, August 1, 1918, a son, Carl Erickson, to Mr. and 
Mrs. Paul Tucker (Olga Erickson). 

fl914. In Andover, June 8, 1918, a son, Judson Dean, to Mr. and Mrs. 
Dana J. Lowd (Wanda Dean), of Arlington. 

fl914. June 18, 1918, a son, Edwin Burk, Jr., to Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Burk 
Estabrook (Dorothy Perkins). 


In Pasadena, Cal., September 11, 1918, Sarah J. Foster, wife of the late 
Rev. Samuel A. Rhea. She was teacher at Abbot Academy, 1857-58. 

1846. In West Andover, August 14, 1918, Martha Ann Barnard, wife of 
the late George Russell. 

1848. In Peabody, June, 1918, Lydia W. Proctor, wife of the late 
Rev. Isaiah C. Thacher. 

1850. In Minneapolis, Minn., October 31, 1918, Lucy Ann Storrs, wife of 
Mr. Lloyd Barber. She was teacher in Abbot Academy 1855-56. 

1855. In Wickford, R. I., October 7, 1918, Mary Alice Peirce, wife of the 
late Edson C. Chick. 

1859. In Allston, June 1, 1918, Harriet A. Hollis, wife of the late Judge 
Henry Baldwin. She was the second president of the Boston Abbot Club. 



1860. In Dover, N. H., December 1, 1918, Sophia Dodge, wife of Colonel 
Daniel Hall. 

fl863. In West Medway, November 13, 1918, Lucy Fairbanks Partridge 
of Holliston. 

|1879. In Brookline, September 29, 1918, Laura Nellie Barron, wife of 
Dr. John B. Brainerd. Her son, Lieutenant John, had only a short time before 
returned home after ten months' service in France. 

1898. In Newton, October 30, 1918, Myra A. Southworth, wife of Mr. 
Albert S. Graves. 

|1906. In Springfield, October 31, 1918, Mrs. Robert F. Day (Clara E. 

fl914. In Raleigh, N. C, October 19, 1918, Margaret I. Blake. Margaret 
was working at the Peace Institute in Raleigh at the time of her death, and it 
seemed as if her life was sure to have been one of great service to the world. 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, B.S., Principal 

Psychology, Ethics 


Physics, Chemistry 

History, English 

Literature, History of Art 




History, Librarian 








Spanish, Latin 

Biology, Household Science 

Physical Education 

Rhythmic Expression 

Vocal Expression 

Pianoforte, Organ, Harmony 





Secretary to the Principal 

Supervisor of Day Scholars 

In charge of Draper Hall to January, 1919 

In charge of Draper Hall from January, 1919 

Assistant to Miss McLean 

Assistant in charge of the cottages 

Resident Nurse. 

Keeper of Alumnae Records, Andover. 


Vocal Music 





Drawing, Painting 

Substitute for Miss Pooke 




Nursing Sister DAVIS 


Rev. C. W. HENRY 

*On leave of absence from January, 1919. 

ScKool Organization 

A. C. A. 

President Kathreen Noyes 

Vice-President Elisabeth Luce 

Secretary Hope Allen 

Treasurer Helen Wygant 

Representative Committee of Student Council 

Cora Erickson Edith Elizabeth Wright 

Grace Leyser Kathreen Noyes 

Marian Chandler Edna Dixon 

{Catherine Coe Janet Warren 

Elisabeth Luce Ethel Dixon 

Ruth Hathaway 

Fidelio Society 

President Charlotte Copeland 

Vice-President ...... Catherine Danforth 

Secretary and Treasurer .... Grace Leyser 


Kathreen Noyes Martha Morse 

Mildred Frost Charlotte Vose 

Elisabeth Luce Elsa Baalack 

Eleonore Taylor Margaret Clark 

Josephine Hamilton 

Athletic Association 

President ...... Edith Elizabeth Wright 

Vice-President ..... Ruth Hathaway 

Secretary Virginia McCauley 

Treasurer Mary Martin 

Clee Club 

Leader Virginia McCauley 

Treasurer Dorothy Williams 

Class Organization 

Senior '19 

President Katharine Coe 

Vice-President Elisabeth Luce 

Secretary ...... Mildred Frost 

Treasurer ...... Ethel Bonney 

Class Motto: "Duty, Service, and Sacrifice" 

Class Flower: Rose Class Colors: Rose and Silver 

Senior Middle '20 

President Leonore Wickersha* 

Vice-President Virginia Miller 

Secretary Eliza Bailey 

Treasurer Hope Allen 

Class Flower: American Beauty Rose Class Colors: Dark Green and White 

Junior Middle '21 

President Elizabeth Hartel 

Vice-President Amelia Hartel 

Secretary Sally Bartlett 

Treasurer Margaret Neelands 

Class Flower: Violet Class Colors: Purple and White 

Juniors '22 

President ...... Elinor Sutton 

Vice-President Dorothy Moxley 

Secretary Dorothea Flagg 

T reasurer Dorothy Cleveland 

Class Flower: Sunburst Rose Class Colors: Blue and Si her 

Alumnae Association 

Mrs. Mary Gorton Darling 


Mrs. Elizabeth Nichols Bean Mrs. Ellen Chamberlain Blair 

Mrs. Josephine Richards Gile Miss Josephine Wilcox 

Mrs. Rebecca Dams Spalding Miss Emily A. Means 

Secretary and Treasurer 
Miss Agnes Park 

Assistant Secretary 
Miss Jane Brodie Carpenter 

Committee on Appropriations 
Miss Bertha Bailey Miss Agnes Pari 

Mrs. John Wesley Churchill 




September 18, Boarding Students register before 7 p. m. 

September 19, Thursday, 9 a. m. 
November 28, Thursday 
December 19, Thursday, 12 m. 

Christmas Vacation 

Fall term begins 
Thanksgiving Day 
Fall term ends 


January 8, Boarding Students register before 6 P. M. 
January 9, Thursday, 9 a. m. 
February 1, Saturday 
February 3, Monday 
March 20, Thursday, 12 m. 

Spring Vacation 

April 2, Boarding Students register before 6 p. m. 
April 3, Thursday, 9 A. m. 
June 10, Tuesday 

Winter term begins 
First semester ends 
Second semester begins 
Winter term ends 

Spring term begins 
School year ends 

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The Alarm Clock 

It stays alone and in the dark, 

It rises early with the lark, 

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So loud, so sharp, and yet so long, 

As it prepares to break my sleep 

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And C's and D's and failures earned. 

Then through the closed door, comes the call 

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The window's shut, the task is done! 

So I return to pillow's rest, 

And think about my Latin test. 

E. H. 


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lonely and 
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June, 1919 










A Desire 3 

Paulina Miller, 1920 

Elizabeth Tyler 4 

1914-1918 5 

Paulina Miller, 1920 
Echoes of China 6 

Elizabeth M. Luce, 1919 
A Victim, Seventeen Hundred Ninety-three 9 

Kathryn Beck, 1919 
A Song to the West 12 

Martha Morse, 1920 
William Alexander, Sheepherder 13 

Catherine Greenough, 1920 
Shelley — A Criticism 15 

Gwendolen Bossi, 1919 
One Munitionette 16 

Paulina Miller, 1920 
The Return 21 

Ruth C. Hathaway, 1919 
Moonlight and Music 22 

Martha Morse, 1919 
Memories of My Childhood 25 

Julia Abbe, 1920 

Curiosity Knocks 27 

Constance Ling, 1920 
Welcome Them 28 

Gertrude Lombard, 1919 
Seasons 29 

Rosamond Patch, 1920 
"Chileren, Obey Your Parents" 30 

Martha Morse, 1920 
A Chin and Its Consequences 33 

Elizabeth Hawkes, 1920 
A Tramp's Campaign 35 

Elizabeth Flagg, 1923 

Editorials 37. 

School Journal 45 

Alumnae Notes 60 

Faculty 67 

Advertisements 71 

The price of the Courant is one dollar a year; single copies fifty cents. 
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SuBtnpHB SMto« 



Vol. XLV JUNE, 1949 No. 2 

d Oestre 

[Composed after the Chapel service in memory of Miss Tyler] 

Filled full, full, full, and brimming over, 

Love — Glory — Service — J oy — 

Each day a golden ball. 

And then — 


At the height of all. 
Death, with an up-turned face, 
With Glory forever undimmed, 
And ever untarnished days. 

Paulina Miller, 1920 

[Elizabeth Stearns Tyler was born in Amherst, 1888, and was graduated from 
Smith in 1909, after which she spent a year studying at the Sorbonne. In 
1913-1914 she taught French at Abbot; later she took her M. A. at Smith, and 
in 1918 her Ph.D. at Columbia. In August she went to France under the 
American Red Cross, and on February 21 died suddenly at Sedan, and was 
buried with full military honors in the little Protestant cemetery. The above 
poem was written immediately after the Abbot chapel service in memory of 
Miss Tyler.] 

Those who love Elizabeth Tyler, and they are many, think of 
her life with mingled envy and exaltation. It was filled with 
such zest, such keen appreciation, such joy. There were dif- 
ficulties, there were disappointments, there were problems; but 
what were these but stuff on which to try the force of a vigorous 
mentality. Each new experience was a new and high adventure. 
It might involve the changing of cherished plans, it might demand 
long and arduous toil: that mattered little, so long as, through it, 
life marched on and up. 

She was an able and accomplished scholar, a gifted teacher, a 
rare friend, but best of all she was a person of distinction. The 
field of her thought, the work of education, the human circle that 
love her are bereft by her going; in all these she filled so large a 
place and gave promise of such rich development. 

Weeks after her death, the thin volume, "La Chancun de 
Willame", that represents the strenuous effort of the last two 
years of her life, came from the publishers. Had she ever seen 
the finished book? Before the task was wholly done, she had 
heard the call of a larger service, the call of mercy, the need of 
humanity, and she was up and away, impatient to give herself in 
the effort to save. Nor was that work finished, when the great 
call came. Up! On to fresh adventure! On to nobler service! 

Did we need her here? How do we know what higher tasks 
await a spirit so free and joyous ! How do we know what heavenly 
service fills her heart and her soul in the larger life ! 

All of Hell, 

And all of Heaven 

Four years. 


Shuddering immensity, 
Despicable smallness 
Of Hell. 


Bright, white splendor, 
Merciful tears, 
Intimate nearness 
Of Heaven. 

And after—? 

Hell unconquered. 

Heaven ungained. 

Yet between — Earth. 

And we — Alive, deepened, 

Strong of ourselves 

And with strength 

Of those who have died — 

We live, to make 

This scarlet Earth 


Paulina Miller, 1920 

(gcfyoes of Cfyinct 

I hear them yet — those tall bamboos, rustling in the gentle 
breeze. I see them yet — those vast cherry orchards, not of trees, 
it seems, but of masses of soft petalled blossoms, pink in color, 
and yet not pink, but more of the roseate cream-color that makes 
so glorious the moment before the sun rises to greet China with 
yet another spring day. I hear them yet — those good old 
squeaky wheelbarrows, as they are trundled over the rutty road, 
by busy long-queued peasants, who are wending their weary way 
to the walled city where they hope to sell their wares, the result 
of patient labor through the long winter days. Here are hand- 
woven reed baskets, stools and all manner of wooden utensils, 
fantastically carved or rough hewn, as the case might be; bolts of 
newly dyed cloth of blue, Chinese blue, cheerful blue, in spite of 
the fact that it may have been stretched out to dry under the 
very gate of a gloomy temple court. And ah! There is a wheel- 
barrow full of small clay playthings, miniature idols, and dolls 
with stiff, unnatural faces and rigid arms, grown, as it were, to 
the clay body. And how do I know these toys are in the barrow? 
Tis true they are carefully covered, but listen to the kind-faced 
owner chatting along in his expressively intonated jargon, chat- 
ting, yes, and enjoying his long, narrow pipe, but getting over the 
ground swiftly, and easily balancing his load with his muscular 
dark brown hands. He tells of the family gathered together in 
the mud hut, working from morning till night on the perishable 
bits of clay; he tells of his opinion that the weather feels like 
locust weather, and at this his companions burst forth with 
curses, or entreaties to the gods. They know only too well what 
destruction is meant if clouds of locusts, creatures much like our 
grasshoppers, only brown, descend upon their fields. Alas! In 
two weeks' time not a blade of vegetation can be seen for miles 

So as a dream comes and is gone, spring has left, and in its 
stead is a hot, parching season of drought and locust plagues. 
And when these unwelcome guests leave at last in clouds that 
blacken the sky, the people, patient still, plant again. But 



no sooner has their crop begun to prosper than the so-called 
"rainy season" begins, and torrents of water, water, water, pour 
from the heavens, from the overflowing rivers, and the reinvig- 
orated springs. Thus, sometimes for weeks at a time all things 
living, live on boats and rafts, and all things dead float on that 
part of the water's surface not covered with household goods. 

But at last this trial too is gone, and with characteristic per- 
severance these patient Asiatics start again with undaunted 
forbearance. And soon, as if by magic, but really because of the 
painstaking farmer's skill and care, far and wide the fields are 
covered with a low bushy bean plant, browned by the hot Orien- 
tal sun. And perhaps this crop is left them, but many are the 
winters for which the bean crop has not been sufficient and there 
reigns a panic, unknown to our opulent country, that of famine. 
Famine ! Do we realize the significance of this want — want 
with no relief in sight, want with no alternative but death? 

And when we know of their courage through all these hard- 
ships we can but marvel at these fellow beings in the Orient. We 
can but marvel at their faith in those inflexible, man-wrought 
deities of stone and bronze. For, when the floods subside and 
again permit men to live on solid ground, the first thought and 
care is one of sacrifice and thanksgiving before the grim and 
hideous idols. And when the droughts become discouraging, 
their prayers and sacrifices to the god of rain are endless. More 
than this, their belief in the after life is so firm, that, as far as their 
hard-earned money permits, gorgeous subterranean dwellings 
are perfected for the out-going spirit, with carved and painted 
frescoes and decorations far more grand and imposing than the 
home above the earth. 

It is hard to realize that to these people, whose even.' day life is 
a fairy tale to us, we, the people of America, are the standard of 
all things perfect, morally and intellectually. Those who have 
opportunities of progress snatch them most eagerly, throwing oft 
the old bonds of idolatry and custom. And yet there are still 
thousands, living as their much esteemed ancestors lived before 
them, who have not seen the light, but, because of some instinct 
that it must be somewhere, are groping, groping in darkness. 
And the only light and inspiration they can find is within dusky 



temple halls, lined as they are with awe-inspiring monsters, 
called — oh irony — called gods! And black-robed priests, with 
long and sour faces, kneel before the curling incense, droning out 
gloomy chants, long since learned by rote, and beating on hollow- 
sounding gourds, thus pleading for the attention of great 
chiselled masses of rock that are deaf and pitiless in their 
eternal silence. 

Elizabeth M. Luce, 1919 

Ct Pictim, Sepenteen Ijunbreb ttintty*tl}vtt 

"Marie," exclaimed Monsieur Cartier, "At last my hopes have 
been fulfilled and you, my child, shall have full honor in their 
completion. Ah, my dear, how I have labored for this day! 
And now it has come and my time has not been wasted." 

"Father, what do you mean? I know you have been busy 
lately and have been planning something big, but you have 
never once told auntie or me anything about it. You have not 
been going to church with us lately but always remain at home 
thinking, and Father dear, you have missed confession and com- 
munion a great many times." 

"Enough! No, I do not go to your fake masses and kneel 
before a statue; no, I worship that which is true and not merely 
symbolical. I worship Reason, the supreme gift!" 

"Mon Dieu, Father, you know not what you are saying. You 
know what the church means to me and what — what it meant 
to Mother. Surely you would not forsake God and Christ now" — 
Maria stopped and crossed herself, "Now that the state 
needs them so much. Just last week the terrible execution of 
Queen Marie Antoinette took place, and daily French people are 
being executed for trivial things. O my father, this is the time of 
all times to pray to God, Christ, the Virgin and the Saints." 

"Marie, I won't hear another word from you. On November 
the tenth Notre Dame will be converted into a Temple of Reason 
and you will march in the procession of young women around 
the cathedral." 

Her father left the room before she could find words with 
which to refuse him. Anyway she could not refuse him for he 
would force her to do his will. There was only one thing to do and 
that was to tell Pierre. She slipped out of the house alone, a 
thing which was forbidden by her aunt in these troublesome 
times, and ran to the cathedral. There, in that massive edifice she 
prayed as she had never prayed before and as she knelt the 
cathedral seemed to grow larger and larger and the vaults to 
reach higher and higher. The building dominated her feelings 
and an hour later when she left, she was refreshed in spirit and 



strengthened by the restful yet yearning atmosphere in the dimly 
lighted cathedral. 

She saw Pierre outside and much to her surprise he was in 
working clothes and looked as if he might belong to the third 
estate. She hurried up to him and she noticed that his face was 
drawn and white. 

"Pierre, dear, what is the matter?" 

"Oh, nothing, Marie, except I'm helping to board over the 
Saints' statues because you never can tell in these days whether 
they will be hurt or not. But, dear, you shouldn't be out alone. 
Come, I'll walk home with you." 

As they walked home hardly anything was said. Marie de- 
cided not to tell Pierre about her father's orders because she 
knew he was already worried and Pierre kept silent as he sup- 
posed she was in ignorance of the future that was destined for her 
own beautiful church. Marie loved only two things, her church 
and Pierre, but these she loved with an intensity strong enough 
to make up for all the other things she did not love. 

The day came when the statue of the Virgin was removed from 
the altar. Pierre tried to stop the procedure but he was arrested 
by the guards who took him away as one likely to make trouble. 
Marie worried at his absence from her home that evening but she 
thought he was probably tired and unhappy over the changing 
of her cathedral into a temple, for he loved her Notre Dame 
as much as she did. 

At last the fatal day came, the day when France would be 
de-Christianized. Marie's father was very happy and very proud. 
He saw that Marie looked very pretty in her white robe and then 
took her to where the two hundred maidens were forming for the 
triumphal procession around Notre Dame. Mile. Maillard, the 
ballet dancer, representing the goddess of Reason took her place 
on the altar of Liberty where the Virgin Mary formerly stood. 
Everyone was happy except a few piteous souls who stayed in- 
doors and looked through their curtains and mourned at the 

As Marie began moving forward in the procession she over- 
heard two girls talking about her. 

"Oh, yes," said the first one. "That's Jean Carrier's daughter, 



whose lover was guillotined last night for opposing the worship 
of Reason. She seems calm enough, doesn't she?" 

"Yes," answered the second girl. "She's probably glad to get 
rid of such an old-fashioned churl and then she must be proud of 
her father. I know I — " 

But Marie heard no more for she broke from the line and ran 
she knew not whither. Pierre dead? Ah, no, he could not be 
and yet they said he was guillotined, — oh! Marie felt herself 
losing all control of herself and she would first sob and then talk 
at random. How could she have consented to march in such a 
parade? How could Pierre be dead, how could all these things 
happen to her? Pierre was dead — and she had loved him so. 
It was this worshipping of Reason that killed him. Ah, how 
she hated and despised the Commune of Paris wnich was behind 
the movement. She cried aloud, "Down with the Commune!" 

Some soldiers heard her sobbing and ran up to her and hearing 
her words of treason against the Commune one said, "Ha, ha! 
It is the little Cartier. She had better go join her lover." 

Another said, "She's not so bad looking, a little wine would 
make her mighty good company. Come, let's give her a treat." 

As quick as lightning Marie sprang away and ran. An officer 
who had been standing by the group said, "Don't let that traitor- 
ess escape. Shoot!" 

Quickly the soldiers raised their guns and fired. Their aim was 
true and in this way died another victim of the year seventeen 
hundred ninety- three. 

Kaihryn Beck, 19X9 

Ct Song to tfje XPcst 

I sing to the open country, 

I sing to the Western plain, 
Where the road runs straight before you 

Through the fields of growing grain. 

Tall and straight, proud and straight, 

Grow the fields of corn. 
Tall and straight our Western men, 
Proud as those same fields again 

Of the land where they were born. 

Wide and free, far and free, 

Stretch the fields of grain, 
Wide and free may souls expand, 
Far beyond the prairie land, 

Further than the Western plain. 

Martha Morse, 1920 

EDtlltam Ctltxanbtt, Sfyeepfyer&er 

William Alexander was a good man, as a great many men of 
Wyoming are; but he had one great fault, as a great many men of 
Wyoming have; and this great fault, like that of a great many 
other Wyoming men, was drink. 

Alexander had a job now. It had been hard to get a job. The 
sheepman who took him to herd his sheep had looked him over 
before hiring him. There had been doubt in the ranchman's face 
when with a gesture of despair he said, "Well, I've got to have 
someone, I can't let that bunch of sheep run wild! I'll try you.', 

So here Alexander was on this cold, rainy night in September. 
He had done his work well and he knew it. He had promised 
himself never to take another drink but to-night the restlessness 
was upon him — the desire for drink ! He tried to put the thought 
out of his mind by telling himself there was not any whiskey in 
miles of the camp. 

He went to the wagon, dried himself and got his meager supper. 
As he sat down to eat, nothing tasted good to him so he fed most 
of the meal to the dog who sat beside him. 

He got up from his seat on the side of the wagon and went to 
the door. He stood looking out of the small window into the black 
night. The rain had turned into sleet. 

"It's a Hell of a night," muttered Alexander. "A Hell of a 
night for a man to go out into — God ! For a drink !" 

As he turned to pick up his coat his eyes fell on a bottle of 
lemon extract. He seized the bottle and drained it. Then he 
stretched himself and sighed a sigh of pleasure and relief. He 
turned to the door muttering again, "It's a Hell of a night — 
but those sheep have got to be bedded." 

Then he turned to the dog, "Well, old fellow, what good are 
you anyway? You just go and bed those sheep." With this he 
opened the lower half of the door and let the dog out with a "Way 
round 'em, Shep! 'Way 'round 'em!" As he did this he was 
aware that he was wrong but that reckless spirit was upon him 
in full strength now. He threw himself on the bench and slept. 

The next morning when Alexander awoke he was conscious 
that something was wrong. He went at once to look at the sheep. 



As he opened the door the sunlight filled the wagon. The storm 
had blown over and left a beautiful day. 

Alexander jumped down from the wagon and walked quickly 
over to where the sheep were grazing. He strained his eyes to 
see why they were so bunched — that wasn't natural. A few 
steps farther on showed him the whole story. It was a pile-up! 
Goodness only knew how many sheep he had killed by sending 
that dog out alone! 

Then he saw himself. It would be the same thing over again 
— town, a rotten drunk, poverty and maybe a job — and that 
like many other Wyoming men of his class was to be William 
Alexander's life until he died of drink. 

Catherine Greenough, 1920 

Sfjelley — Ct Criticism 

God has given to every human being a sense of the beautiful. 
This sense in some has never been aroused or encouraged so that 
eventually it has died. In others it has been smothered by less 
worthy senses and so stunted in its growth. But there are others 
to whom this sense of the beautiful is life and breath, whose whole 
existence becomes a struggle to express it in some form. Even 
such a one is Shelley. He throbs, vibrates with an aching 
realization of beauty, beauty in earth, in sky, in sea, beauty that 
leaves him stunned, breathless, awe-stricken. And in his works 
he strives one way and another, in short lines or in long, to put 
into something tangible that consciousness that fills his being. 
He throws down picture after picture, one impression after 
another, building a lofty pile of lovely images, colorful, delicate, 
exquisite. And in his anxiety to get all these things on paper, 
he stops not to sort them, to present them in orderly fashion, but 
puts them as they come to his mind. He loves his bright paints, 
and in his haste to use them smears them here and there, this way 
and that, in a riotous, dizzying confusion. Thus we see his 
poetry a lovely composition of mixed ideas but little more. We 
cannot call it great, not constructive, nor ennobling. For even 
as the great master presents his main subject in the foreground 
of his painting and blends his little side-touches into a harmonious 
background; or as the great composer constructs his symphony 
with a simple melody for a theme, using his rippling cadenzas 
and melting allegros as a background, an added charm to the 
whole, so should the great poet keep some high but single thought 
for his main point and use his outbursts of inspiration, his flights 
of fancy, merely to surround rather than to hide his theme. In 
this, Shelley misses true greatness, and we feel when we read 
him that we realize his failing. Shelley will live long as one of our 
most beloved poets, but he cannot be immortal. 

Gwendolen Bossi, 1919 

(Dne ITtumttonette 

Newspapers are so inconsistent. For days and days — 
especially war days — one may find them utterly dull and trivial. 
Then on some ordinary morning they may contain all the world, 
and leave one palpitating with hope or fear. Or after weeks of 
sameness they may whisper some trifle that is the key to countless 
memory storehouses. 

Such proved an old, before- the- war London Times one breath- 
less August day to a weary, slender girl in the uniform of a 
munitionette. The splendid courage that was her British legacy 
had dropped suddenly flat, leaving her no longer British, nor 
woman, nor anything but a terrified worn-out child, and sent her 
stumbling unseeingly into the friendly sunlight of an unused 
little room nearby. Away from the clash of the munition factory, 
from the ghastliness of sound, and sight, and smell, she drew a 
long breath and stood tense, hands tight against her eyes for a 
long time. 

Then, a little half-sad smile curving her lips, she sat down on 
an old box for the moment of precious aloneness that would leave 
her brave and British again. And idle hands and eyes found the 
dusty old Times on top of a heap of old and new papers. There 
staring up at her was the face of a deeply beautiful girl. Not so 
much the exquisite line of cheek and chin and throat, nor the 
softness of dusky hair, nor even the tender, perfect mouth, gave 
the face its singular loveliness, but rather the charm of imperfect, 
mobile features, of a tiny crooked smile, of the depths of the long- 
lashed eyes. The faded type below said briefly, "Lady Olive 
Trevelyan in court dress." 

The tired munitionette slowly lifted her head, to find in a 
cracked mirror opposite the reflection of that same face, and even 
the wistful, crooked smile. But the smile quivered now, and 
almost retreated, in spite of returning British courage. For this 
Lady Olive Trevelyan of 1917 was very different from the before- 
the-war Lady Olive. The face that she saw to-day was sadly, 
bravely yellow, the fresh young skin already withering, youth 
only in those dauntless eyes and finely smiling lips. Lady Olive 



had smiled when she made her decision, had smiled during the 
agony of months of work with the mustard gases that had left her 
a " permanently disabled" British soldier, and could still smile, 
though she realized to the full her quiet sacrifice of beauty, youth, 
love, happiness, of all that is life. 

The world, her dear, frivolous London world, had thought her 
mad when she did this thing. Sacrifice, yes. Nurse, or "Tommy 
Waac", or "V. A. D.", but not this ghastly — though necessary 
— work that would leave her yellow-skinned and hopelessly 
repulsive forever. That was what they all said. She was so 
incredibly beautiful and high-born, and wealthy, so sought- 
after, of the world, her life could be magnificent. She must not 
waste it. She smiled and agreed — and offered herself as a 
munitionette. She even smiled publicly as "her fair, sweet skin 
yellowed. " 

So, Lady Olive Trevelyan, munitionette, managed to laugh a 
little as she brushed a shining drop or two from her knee. And 
then she found something else in another and more recent paper. 
"Reported missing — Captain Fergus Stuart-Beith," it read. 
Wearily she drew her hand across her forehead. He too? Must 
she add him to the lines of ghosts that lived back of her eyes — 
he, the least forgettable and least known of the men who had 
crossed her life? Like a series of pictures she saw again — and 
not for the first time — their pitifully few, unforgotten meetings. 

It had been in 1913 that she had come back from the continent, 
tired as only twenty- two can be tired, of a surfeit of clothes and 
fetes and flatteries. One expected nothing really startling on the 
foolish little channel boats, but this time something happened. 
Fog, and a rough sea, the ship an old one, and then the sudden 
shock of a stray cruiser, the frightened pallor of faces, and the 
unwitting assailant had disappeared again in the fog. That was 
all, and the little Dover was left — to sink? 

Olive was tired and dispairing; the resulting confusion and 
panic strangely enough infuriated her. With head thrown back 
and crimson, scornful mouth, she was like a young avenging 
goddess; and Stuart-Beith had seen, laughed oddly, and gone to 
her side. Their eyes had met once, long and full, then together, 
with a calmness that was companionable and even amused, they 


had quelled the panic-stricken passengers, and by some miracle 
the ship had tottered into Dover. Olive and Stuart-Beith had 
had one more long look, and parted. In Dover she learned that 
he was the son of a Scotch family whose utter poverty and 
indebtedness was the result of living and loving, not wisely but 
too well ; that in his revulsion of spirit Fergus had separated from 
them, and with obstinate pride had lived an independent and 
widely-varied life. Olive wanted to see more of him, for he had 
left his eyes in hers too long for his strength to do anything but 
hold her; but in the meantime he had discovered her awful 
popularity and wealth, the countless lovers — of her money — 
that surrounded her, and his pride kept him cold and far away. 
This, because her eyes and her splendid, scornful youth were 
drawing him so. 

Then she joined a gay house-party for a week of shooting in 
Scotland, and quite accidentally they met on a lovely, unfre- 
quented bridle-path. As it happened, he was surveying (he was 
an engineer, it seemed) in a little town nearby. Her aristocratic 
friends frowned on her sudden interest in this unknown Scotch- 
man, and half in annoyance Olive let herself go. With his 
whimsical smile Fergus did the same, and the resulting week was 
vital and unforgettable; until finally her nearness and dearness 
made him nearly forget her wealth and desirability so that his 
pride revolted, and he fled — angrily, reluctantly. And neither 
guessed that each would stay forever in the heart of the other. 

In London they met later — coldly. And then the war came. 
Since then there had been nothing. And now — "Reported 
missing — Captain Fergus Stuart-Beith." 

Lady Olive bowed her head on her knees, and it seemed that 
there must be silence in all the world. 

The munition work of course went on; and Olive Trevelyan, 
her beauty gone for her country, had still her beautiful, tender 
smile. Yet aristocracy — even war-softened aristocracy — 
frowned a little on her democracy of deeds, not words. And she 
was much alone. 

And then little Scotland suddenly began celebrating, for a son 
had returned from Germany, from the dead. Major Fergus 



Stuart-Beith told his experiences very quietly, but certain 
revelations were making him famous. He came up to London for 
the V. C, and was taken to the heart of London society. And 
Olive Trevelyan, munitionette, heard and thanked God — and 
looked in the mirror. Poor brave Olive! Her sacrifice was 
becoming almost unbearable. 

Major Stuart-Beith was perpetually feted in London, and to 
confess the truth, he was bored. He was a tall, bronzed man, 
strong and fine-looking in his spotless khaki, but he seemed 
restless and ever-searching. There had been no word at all of 
Lady Olive Trevelyan. 

It was at a convalescents' garden party and he was being 
prettily adored by an agreeable duchess when he chanced every- 
thing and said, "This reminds me — this enormous orchestra — 
by contrast, I suppose, of once when Lady Olive Trevelyan and 
I were the orchestra — on a comb and Jew's harp — for the dance 
of some small Scotch children." 

"Did you know Olive Trevelyan?" inquired the duchess. 

He nodded. 

"Really? I suppose that poor lovely girl is one of our saddest 
tragedies, Major Stuart Beith." 

Fergus had learned control in the last three years, and not a 
muscle twitched. But his voice was low and — to himself — 
oddly unrecognizable when he spoke. "I hadn't heard." 

"No?" The duchess was pleasantly communicative. "Why, 
you know she was about the most beautiful thing London ever 
produced — and the richest." He set his lips in a grim, straight 
line. He knew. "And," she went on. "Early in the war she 
deliberately gave up all that, and went into a munition factory, 
and now — poor Olive ! She's been there a long time, and I 
think she's the most hopelessly, incredibly yellow of them all. 
And she's simply thrown away her fortune for the war — she had 
no restraining family, you know. We never see her any more. I 
think she's one of our heroic, pathetic memories now, Major. 
Her life, of course, is quite ruined." 

Stuart-Beith stood up very straight and tall. "You mean — 
that her beauty, and money, and happiness are — gone?" 



"Why, of course," with arched eyebrows. "I tell you she's 
yellow and hideous. Naturally, after the war she'll come back to 
us, but hers will simply be one of our many war-broken lives." 

"Will you please tell me where she may be found?" Fergus' 
eyes bored into hers and they were deeply glowing. Because of 
them she forgot all jesting and coquetry and gave him the 
address he wished. 

It was rest-hour at the munition factory, and Olive stood 
wearily among her yellowed companions. The ghosts behind her 
eyes had been haunting her, and she was heart-breakingly sad — 
and shrinkingly yellow. When told that an officer wished to see 
her she languidly followed the attendant to one of the tiny rest- 
rooms. There were still cousins and friends who occasionally 
looked her up. 

But the officer who slowly rose to meet her was no cousin. It 
was Fergus — he had found her. She caught back her shriek, 
and sank against the closed door for support. This time their 
gaze could not untangle itself for many moments. Then, "I've 
come back — and now I can come nearer," said Fergus Stuart- 
Beith hoarsely. 

"You!" Olive whispered dispairingly, and hid her yellow face. 

"That you should have done this! Ah, but it makes you 
infinitely more wonderful!" 

Olive looked up, piteously amazed. Why, he was glorying in 

"I've come to make you marry me — immediately," he said. 
"No," falteringly. "I tell you I can't marry. I'm yellow. 1 ' 
"You know you can no more help marrying me than I could 
help coming instantly — when I knew. You know it was because 
everybody wanted your money and your beauty, and your social 
position that my beastly pride kept me away. It was you I 
loved — always — and now I can say so. You've got to marry 
me — now." 

"Do you know what you are saying?" But already Olive's 
sacrificed face was growing more deeply beautiful than ever the 
rose and white one had been. 

"You know I do," insisted the man. 

"Why — I do know it!" said Olive Trevelyan, and stepped 
forward to — happiness. Paulina Miller, 1920 

Cfye Heturn 

As those endless lines of khaki 

Came swinging down the street, 

The air seemed to throb and quiver 

With the tread of marching feet ; 

Then suddenly behind those men 

I saw those silent fields, 

The wooden crosses, row on row, 

The harvest France now yields. 

And through that throbbing, throbbing sound 

That filled the narrow street, 

There came the pulse of a million hearts 

That long since ceased to beat. 

Ruth C. Hathaway, 1919 

Zrtoonligfyt anb ZTCustc 

"I'm afraid I can't quite agree with you," came the voice 
coolly sweet through the darkness. 

"Well you just wait, and one of these days you'll be changing 
your mind!" I stormed. 

"Oh, really," murmured the voice again, still more sweetly and 
still more coolly. 

"Bah!" I ejaculated, too rudely, I must confess, but I was 

I swung off the porch and made my way down to the beach and 
out to the end of the pier where I seated myself and swung my 
white ducks in disgust. Why the mischief did Alice have to be 
so mean! Why couldn't she be decent once in a while and give a 
fellow a chance to be natural ! At least while she was a guest at 
our cottage ! I sat a while and as my thoughts cleared I became 
gradually aware that it was a rather wonderful night. The water 
was lapping gently on the sand and the moon was bright enough 
to light up the edge of the shore and to make a broad path of 
light on the bay. All of which sounds like a description of the 
"Beach at Waikaki". And that is exactly what it reminded me 
of. All it lacked was a ukulele and a Hawaiian girl. I especially 
needed the girl to take the place of Alice whom I was determined 
to forget. Hawaiian girls were always ready to do what a fellow 
wanted — they were real sports — at least I never heard of any 
that weren't. 

I lay back on the pier with my hands caught under my head, 
gazing up at the moon and humming the strain of a once-popular 
Hawaiian song. I imagined how bully it would be — just a 
beach and one of those Hawaiian girls, and moonlight-on-the- 
water, and music — a thought came to me — I shouldn't be able 
to understand her language — but I could teach her a word or 
two and that would be all that would be necessary. 

Suddenly I stopped humming and listened intently. Did my 
ears deceive me or was I hearing the very strum of a ukulele 
which the occasion had lacked ? I raised on my elbow and looked 
in the direction from whence the sound came. With difficulty I 
suppressed an ejaculation, for there, in a patch of moonlight not 



more than fifteen yards down the shore from the pier, was the 
swaying figure of a girl. I noted a few details and gasped. She 
wore a filmy gown with a dark girdle which revealed her lithe 
grace as she swayed in the moonlight to the rhythm of the 
ukulele which she was playing. She looked just like the girl on 
the cover of my copy of The Hula Boola Girl. 

I stood up and quietly tiptoed along the pier to the beach, and 
then took a few steps along the beach in her direction. I was 
careful to move quietly, fearing to frighten her, but as I drew 
nearer I could see that her beautiful eyes were upon me and that 
she was smiling — just a little. In a moment I was at the edge 
of the patch of moonlight but her eyes kept me from coming 
nearer, although her lips continued to smile — just a little — 
and she continued to play — very softly. For a moment I was 
speechless with adoration. She was mine! She had come to me 
and her lips said that she Suddenly I found words. 

"You fairy!" I breathed. "You darling! What has brought 
you so far from your island home? " 

She smiled from half-closed eyes and murmured, "Moonlight 
and music." 

Ecstasy burned within me. I yearned to clasp her lithe form 
and sway with it to the music of my heart. But I whispered 
again : 

"Do you feel it too? Is it filling your whole being? Is it 
making you a slave to " 

"Moonlight and music," interrupted the soft voice again, as 
she swayed toward me the least bit. 

My mind suddenly returned to my recent contemplations. 
Just a word or two, I had thought, — no more would be necessary. 
And the words had turned out to be 

"I love you," I choked, stretching out my arms, eager to take 

She swayed backwards almost imperceptibly and smiling half- 
pityingly, her lustrous eyes shining through half-closed lids, she 

"Moonlight and music." 

My heart stopped beating and as I gazed fascinated, she 
glided slowly backward and before I had recovered sense enough 



to move she had disappeared into the woods. Rubbing my hand 
across my eyes, I staggered across the patch of moonlight to the 
opening in the woods where she had vanished, but I could see no 
trace and the woods were so dark that I knew search would be 

I walked slowly back to the cottage and passing through the 
group on the porch without a word, I went to my room and to 
bed and tried to sleep. One idea was firmly fixed in my mind — 
she was mine and I would find her and claim her. 

I rose late the next morning and the family were at breakfast 
when I finally started for the dining-room. I paused outside of 
the door as the shrill voice of my twelve-year-old brother, 
Jimmie, pierced my ears. 

"And when they caught her she was dressed all funny with 
just a kind of a nightie and a sash on. They don't know how she 
escaped or " 

"Oh, let me tell it!" burst in the hungry voice of Mary, my 
fifteen-year-old sister. "She's from the sanitorium over in 
Benzonia, and she went crazy two years ago when everybody was 
so wild over Hawaiian music. And she caught the rage and it 
went to her head and now " 

The insistent voice of Jimmie again demanded attention and 
once more my ear-drums were pierced. 

"She's forgotten how to talk and she keeps saying the same 
thing over and over — something about the moon shining on her 
fiddle " 

"Oh, really!" came the interested voice of my friend, Alice. 
And I dashed out of the house and in the direction of Benzonia, 
resolved to offer myself as a patient. 

Martha Morse, 1919 

XTTemories of UTy £r?ilor/oob 

Stowe! At the foot of the Green Mountains in Vermont! 
Shall I ever forget it? Impossible. How well I remember those 
cold winters when the snow was heaped up to the very windows, 
and the wind blew a fierce and bitter gale. How deep and cold 
that snow was, and how sharp and biting that wind. Five fires 
going night and day were not enough to keep us warm. Wrapped 
up like mummies we walked inside the house. If anyone spilled 
a drop of water on the floor, it froze immediately. We could 
easily have skated from room to room if there had been a flood. 
One winter my brother and sister and I had whooping-cough. 
Naturally in a climate like that we didn't get over it very soon. 
We stayed in bed for nearly six months. Those were long, weary 
days with sometimes only the frosty windows to gaze at. But 
there was one thing that made existence endurable for me, and 
that was a fascinating book by George MacDonald, The Princess 
and the Goblin. I spent long hours looking at the gorgeous, 
flaming color of the goblin prince's hair which was the exact color 
of my broth. To this day, I always think of that goblin prince 
when I have beef broth. 

I remember queer things that my little sister did in those days. 
She was especially fond of chewing paper. But she seemed to 
have a vague idea that perhaps it wasn't quite the thing to do, and 
so she invariably ate her paper behind the piano where no one could 
see. It was a lamentable fact that the newest magazines were 
always missing, for she seemed to like best the taste of the most 
recent literature. She was also fond of hiding underneath the 
dining-room table and talking to herself. Many were the times 
when I came into the room and heard her little voice near my 
feet, "How do you do, Mrs. Pumpkin? Come right in, Mrs. 
Squash." Yes, those were interesting days in Stowe. And I 
had queer thoughts, for I was alone a great deal and liked to 
imagine things and make up strange stories about people. I was 
particularly fond of writing fairy stories in a little red book that I 
kept especially for that purpose. And I often made up absurd 
little jingles and rhymes about my play mates. I remember one 
about a little boy: 



"Theodore, Theodore, sat at the front door, 
Smoking a pipe of tobac' ; 
Along came a spider and sat down beside him, 
So Theodore ordered a hack." 

And I added "Quack quack", because I thought it rhymed so 
beautifully with "hack". Then there was another one about 
"Gathering in Hay in the Month of May". A third was entitled, 
"Hear the Graceful Shuffle of Your Feet before the Door". 
Another one ran like this : — 

"Once there was a little lad, 
And he loved his dear old dad, 
But his pa was very sad. 

"His grandma was an old, old lady, 
And her room was very shady; 
Shady for an old, old lady. 

"His mother had some hair of brown 
Which made her look just like a clown, 
And never did she tumble down." 

One day there was a funeral next door. Two men came up 
the steps of the church carrying the gloomy coffin heaped with 
brilliant pink and red carnations. I wasn't near enough to see 
what it was that looked so bright and delicious, but I imagined 
that what was heaped upon the coffin was all the gorgeous 
Christmas candy that the man in the black box had eaten during 
his life. 

When I was a very tiny girl, I stood outside the front door every 
evening and sang jubilantly, holding a little book (generally 
upside down). When I grew a little older and realized that it 
was a very ridiculus thing to do, I hid myself in the barn or in the 
attic and there lifted up my heart in song. Then when I went to 
bed at night, I played that my pillow was a piano, and sang 
myself to sleep. What happy days they were! I love Stowe 
because of them. 

Julia Abbe, 1920 

Curiosity Knocks 

In the line of faces that swing through my mind on sleepless 
nights, composing the ever-shifting, ever-fluctuating circle of 
those known as acquaintances — one face and figure as it passes, 
always stimulates a tingle of sub-conscious amusement — a 
gaunt, black-clothed woman, a tense carriage giving her a 
peculiar forward tilt. In her right hand she grasps a black 
cotton umbrella, and from her left arm dangles a rather small, 
shabby, and yet distinctive black valise. There she goes across my 
mental street corner, precisely as she would pass my front 

People call her eccentric; yet, in the long though intermittent 
acquaintance we have had, I have found no foundation for the 
judgment other than this: the bag and umbrella are always 
with her. To this alone can I trace her reputation for "queer- 
ness". Like little Miss Fleet and her reticule of papers, this 
woman is never seen without these accoutrements. But it is not 
conceivable that she is carrying the evidence of a law case about 
with her. On occasion I have known her destination to be an 
evening party or a boat-ride — in the most cloudless weather — 
yet as inseparable from her as her own long, spare nose are the 
cotton umbrella and the small black bag. 

Instinctively one wonders — What are the motives behind 
that inexpressive countenance that urge this invariable observ- 
ance ? Can it be possible that this meek appearing woman is the 
perpetrator of some momentous fraud, some hidden crime? Are 
these unassuming, aye, plebeian articles, cloaking a deep sig^ 
nificance? One has read of walking-canes that conceal revolvers, 
and jeweled hairpins that taper into daggers. An umbrella 
might quite easily be convertible into a bludgeon, and a handbag 
hide a conspiracy. Though the umbrella be all that it appears, 
does the black bag conceal — a bomb? or rubbers? 

Surely the bottom of the matter cannot be a fear of inclement 
weather? It is possible that the poor lady is haunted by a strange 
maniacal fancy. Having been struck by a bolt from heaven in 
her infancy, does she seek to evade the sudden assault of rain- 



These suggestions are perhaps just the expressions of a 
curiosity-piqued brain. But how much more dreadful are the 
possible explanations of the cottom unbrella and the black bag! 

Constance Ling, 1920 

XDelcome £fyem 

Hail to them, welcome them, 

A right royal welcome, 

Honor and cheer them, 

The boys who've come home ; 

Welcome them heartily, rev'rently, feeling 

All they have done for us, 

The boys who've come home ! 

Gertrude Lombard, 1919 

Singing birds, blooming flowers, 
Springtime brings sun-flooded hours; 
Deep blue ocean, yellow sand. 
Bathers running hand in hand; 
Swirling leaves, autumn breeze. 
Nodding grass and bending trees : 
Snowflakes falling through the air; 
Bells a-jingling everywhere; 
Seasons four comprise the year, 
But summer's the one I hold most dear. 

Rosamond Patch. 1920 

"Cfytlbren, (Dbey your parents •* 

"But, Mother, why not?" I urged. "Mary's mother let her 
read it and you know that Mrs. Miller wouldn't let Man- do 
anything that wasn't " 

"We won't argue the matter. There are certainly other books 
in the library besides Sherlock Holmes. I do not want you to read 
it because I think best. We will let the matter drop." 

So we did, although it dropped on the toe of a fond desire and 

I joined Mary and Ethel outside and together we strolled down 
to the Public Library. It was only recently that Mary had run 
across The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and she had been so 
thrilled with it, and had talked of it so constantly that all of the 
girls had been drawn into the spirit of it. And it was a casual 
reference to this, dropped by me at the luncheon table, that had 
brought forth the firm order which had so blasted all my plans 
for enjoying the same thrills after Mary had finished the book. 

We tripped into the library, giggling a little (I don't know why 
but it always makes us want to giggle a little when we go into 
the library; because it's so solemnly quiet, I suppose), and all 
went up to the desk while Mary returned her book. I had 
determined to get no book at all since the one of my desire was 
denied to me, so I stood by the desk while Mary and Ethel 
walked over to the shelves to look for other books. My eye 
wandered idly about, and happened to fall on Mary's late- 
returned book and with a start I noticed that it was "the" 
book. I didn't know that she was bringing it back so soon. I 
gazed with longing eyes, and as I gazed, the librarian picked it 
up to go through the formalities of restoring it to its shelf. As she 
flapped back the cover for the card, two or three pages flapped 
back with it and I caught a fleeting glance of a frontispiece with 
the lines and shading of my favorite illustrator. Mary hadn't 
told me that it was a new and modern edition. As the librarian 
was concluding her operations I considered. Mother had told 
me not to read the book. Her tone had suggested that I leave 
it alone altogether. But of course there would be no harm in 
looking at the illustrations. 



The librarian laid the book down and I reached over and picked 
it up. I found the "List of Illustrations" and turned to look at 
one opposite page one hundred seventy-four. It was as attractive 
as I had hoped and it was exciting. I had really forgotten that 
the picture would have anything to do with the story. My eye 
fell to the lines of description below. They matched the picture 
for excitement. Almost without thought my glance shot over to 
page one hundred seventy-four and by some trick of fortune fell 
on the lines corresponding with those under the picture. My 
glance skimmed down the page. Without thinking I turned it 
and skimmed over the next. You can't imagine how exciting it 
was. I turned back to find the title of it and just then the girls 
called me. 

" Hurry up! " said Mary. " I have to go to the store for mother 
and it's nearly six now." 

For an instant I hesitated. Mother had told me that I could 
take all the time that I wanted, to choose a book, but that I 
should finish it, once I had started it, whether I liked it or not. 
Surely this principle would stand before any little rule for 
individual books, and anyway, I could just finish that one story 
that I was on and keep both rules — I would be finishing my 
story and yet I wouldn't be reading the whole book as I had been 
forbidden. I had the book transferred to my card and joined the 

The errand finished, we started home. At our walk I told the 
girls "Good-bye", and skipped into the house. I ran right 
upstairs to my room because I thought that mother might be 
around and I was sure that she wouldn't understand this case of 
having to look out for two rules at once. To make sure of avoid- 
ing any difficulties, I put the book under my pillow. 

I went to bed early that night. I hadn't been able to do my 
lessons very well because I was so very tired. After the family 
had come upstairs and closed their doors I got out the book. I 
thought I might as well get through with it and get it off my 
mind, because I wouldn't be able to do a thing until I had. 

I read and read and finally laid the book down, read through, 
just as the clock struck eleven- thirty. I reached up and turned 
off the light and turned over to go to sleep. But the particulars 



of one especially gruesome tale kept running through my mind. 
It really had quite a different effect, now that the light was out 
and the house dark and quiet. But was the house quiet? A 
board creaked far down the hall, then one nearer, and one nearer 
still. I held my breath and my heart jumped violently. I 
thought of the story of the "Midnight Visitor". It had seemed 
rather impossible when I was reading it but now I realized how 
very possible and logical it was. It was an awful thought. I 
was sure that the creaking was coming nearer. I tried to think 
of what 1 might do. Suddenly there was a creak by the dresser 
and my heart skipped two beats. I simply couldn't stand it any- 
longer. I would get mother. But — I stopped. What explana- 
tion could I give? Wouldn't she know right away that I had 
read the forbidden book? I knew that she would. She had 
instincts developed beyond most women. Another creak brought 
my heart into my mouth and made my eyes pop strangely open. 

It wasn't until the grey light of dawn began to steal into "the 
room that I dared to close my eyes and go to sleep. 

The next morning I sought mother before breakfast and con- 
fessed that I had read the book. She looked at my bleary eyes 
and pale face and merely said, "Was Mother right?" 

And I was to pass many another terrified night before I 
realized just how right she was. 

Martha Morse, 1920 

CL Cfytn anb 3ts Consequences 

"But I didn't mean to, mother, I just forgot. Didn't she know 
she had a double chin? I don't see why she didn't like me to tell 
her she had one if she really knew she had one. Honestly, 
mother, I'm awfully sorry, but she did have one." 

So I retreated into the back yard with the conviction that the 
world was made of senseless conventions. If I couldn't say any- 
thing that was so without being sent out of the room, and couldn't 
say anything that wasn't so without being sent to bed supperless, 
what could I say anyway? I threw myself down on the grass and 
wept. Then, like the sun after a thunder-shower, came my 
inspiration. I would run away. They would be sorry and hunt 
for me then; but they wouldn't find me. I should be gone. 

Yes, that was what I would do. Hastily picking up my small 
six-year-old self, I started to run, but not without a glance 
back at the house. Just think what a good time I had had there 
before I had grown old and worn-out. For I was very old and 
worn-out at that moment. Why, there didn't seem to be any 
way for me to tell what I should do and what I shouldn't do. 
The only thing was to let people alone, and J wouldn't mind 
what I said to myself. 

I ran on and on. It seemed as though I had been away from 
home for aeons. Here was a quiet little brook. "I will lie down 
here and go to sleep," I said to myself in an undertone. "But 
aren't there a lot of sticks and things around. Oh dear! I can't 
go to sleep. This is awful. I wish I had a happy home like other 
children. I must be an adopted child anyway. Probably I came 
from an orphan asylum. But mother is rather nice, isn't she? 
Well, I mustn't go back now. I'm going on. My, but it's cold! 
I wish I had my coat. I guess to-morrow morning I will eat 
something. I'm rather sleepy " 

"Hello, Sulky," interrupted a big voice above me. "What 
are you up to now? D'you know that you're a long ways from 
home and you'd better be on the jump?" 

It was the janitor at school, big, friendly. I got up and looked 
around. In a minute I came to my senses and began to imagine 
reasons for being there. 



"Oh," I said, "I was just walking around." 

He looked a little surprised, but pointed out the way home. 
I started off as briskly as I had started an hour earlier and by the 
time I was at home I had forgotten all my troubles. I remem- 
bered it sometimes and would wonder why I had been so crazy 
as to run away. But it wasn't very long before I forgot all about 
it and did the same thing over again. 

Elizabeth Hawkes, 1920 

Ct tramp's Campaign 

Weary Willy and Artful Dodger awoke from their sound sleep 
in the hayloft of Farmer Goodwin's barn. 

"Oh hum," yawned Weary Willy. "This sure is goin' terbe a 
scotcher an' I ain't goin' ter work as hard as I did yisterday." 

Artful Dodger broke into a loud laugh at this remark, which 
angered Weary Willy. 

"What yer laughin' at? Guess yer hain't done much the last 
week yerself, an' didn't I ride a hundred miles hangin' onter a 
freight train and had ter keep awake all that time ter keep from 
fallin' off?" Weary Willy was fond of sleep. 

Artful Dodger laughed. "What yer goin' ter do terday? 
Chaffeur goin' to call for yer at nine o'clock an' take yer ter the 
club fer breakfast?" 

"Oh, yer think ye're funny," retorted Weary Willy, who evi- 
dently felt the need of his breakfast. 

"Well," said Artful Dodger, "I know what I'm goin' ter do 
fust thing. There's a swimmin' pool over there behind them 
bushes an' I'm goin' ter take a swim, then I'm goin' over ter that 
field where I see a scarecrow what's wearing a much better suit 
of clothes than I'm wearin', an' I'm goin' ter offer ter swap, an' 
if he don't give 'em to me I'm goin' ter pitch him over." 

"Well I tell yer," replied Weary Willy, "I'm goin' ter git 
some feed first thing." 

"Where der yer think yer goin' ter git it? 'Spect the maid ter 
bring it up ter yer on a silver tray ? " 

"Well, if yer won't be so terribly smart and fresh, I'll let yer 
in on my breakfast. By the smell they're cookin' doughnuts 
'round here an' I'm goin' ter happen round by the pantry window 
jist 'bout time they're coolin' off. Then I'm goin' out by that 
field an' try me hand at milkin' a cow. By that time I think 
I'd better be startin' or they'll discover the loss of their dough- 
nuts an' set the dog after me." 

Immediately they set forth, Weary Willy and Artful Dodger 
getting their prey without being caught; and then they started 
forth on their day's journey. 



At some places they were forced to chop wood and work for 
their food (which was much to Weary Willy's dislike). At other 
places they received food without any work, but at still others 
they were sent away with harsh words and no food. 

Thus the day went on for the tramps. They were favorably 
and unfavorably received; and at nightfall they met at an 
appointed place to talk over the result of their day's work, and to 
plan for the morrow's campaign. 

Elizabeth Flagg, 1923 


Abbot Academy — Ninety Years After 

Ninety years ago, Abbot Academy was founded, in the fear of 
God, in a belief in the power of enlightened womanhood, in 
reverent recognition of the immortal destiny of the human spirit. 
Its very beginnings were marked by dignity, decorum, fitness. 
The school building was built to endure, adequate, appropriate, 
beautiful. The courses outlined were planned for the discipline 
of the mind and the upbuilding of character: the merely showy 
and superficial was forever barred. 

In the years since, the school has grown in numbers and in 
material equipment. In Abbot Hall, where seventy happy girls 
gathered on that May morning so many years ago, there are 
now one hundred and seventy girls — still happy ones. The one 
acre on which the original building stood has extended to twenty- 
five or thirty. Instead of the single building then belonging to 
the school, the school property now includes sixteen, not all in 
use for school purposes. The curriculum has seen many changes 
and modifications, most notably, perhaps, the recognition of 
college preparation as a part of its work. The trustees, teachers, 
and students who so joyfully initiated the undertaking and many 
of those who followed them have served their day and generation, 
and have passed on to a larger service. 

Yet in the school as it stands today, the past is still a living 
power. Though educational methods have seen great changes 
through the intervening years, and the school-room routine of 
ninety years ago might seem to us primitive, the work of the 
school today has not outgrown nor can it ever outgrow the 
inspired vision of its founders. Still the thought in extending 
the material equipment is permanence, adequacy, dignity, 
beauty; still the keynote of the school life is simplicity, courtesy, 
and gracious friendliness; still the purpose of those who teach 
is to inform the immortal mind, and to form the character for an 
immortal destiny. 

Abbot girls have carried the memory and the love of Abbot 
Academy around the wide world, and wherever the loving memory 
of the Abbot fellowship is cherished today, thought is truer, 
hearts are warmer, life is nobler because of it. 


Let us then, this anniversary year, give thanks anew for those 
who, so many years ago, laid here such fair and strong founda- 
tions, and let us anew pledge ourselves to untiring effort to build 
upon them the school of which they dreamed. 

B. B. 

In this ninetieth year of our school we are very glad to have as 
president of the Alumnae Association one of the most loyal and 
beloved of old Abbot girls. In writing to the Couraxt about 
her memories of Abbot she says : — 

"Should I write all that is dear to me of Abbot Academy days, 
the whole Couraxt could not contain it. Just now the spring- 
time is strong in my memory. Although each season of the year 
has its own peculiar charm, springtime is especially lovely with 
flowers everywhere. Wonderful violets on what used to be 
Abbot Meadow, now Brothers Field; the columbines about 
Rabbit Rock Pond; the bird-foot violets in the field along the 
old railroad; the Indian pipe about Pomp's Pond; the lupines on 
the hill near the South Church; the pitcher-plants along the 
Shawsheen. and many varieties of violets and little bluets every- 
where — all telling their story of joy and gladness in the sweet 
perfume of just plain happiness and the delight of simply being 
alive. The hills, the trees, and the flowers of Andover, bright in 
a sunshiny day, or misty with branches and leaves heavy with 
rain, make a wonderful stage for the perpetual drama of friend- 
ship acted at Abbot." 

Abbot. What does the name mean to us? Merely a school, a 
place in which to study and play, a group of orderly buildings and 
well-kept lawns, a place where we were sent to learn to grow up? 
Perhaps once when first we came here it meant something like 
that. We wrote enthusiastically to our friends, "My dear, it's a 
heavenly place and I'm crazy about it!" with entire sincerity 
and truth. Now we do not say we are crazy about Abbot. The 
expression sounds flat and meaningless. Our first feeling has 
changed to something deeper, finer, more serious. We have 
learned to know the meaning of the name of our school, the 
meaning of its history, of all the lives that through ninety* years 



of love and service have held high ideals of noble womanhood. 
The past comes over us in a mighty sweep and carries us forward 
in spite of ourselves. And. conscious of the power and strength 
of that sweep of years, still we know that we, we today, hold in 
our hands the destiny of all that those in the past have striven 
for. We are but a tiny part of it all, but if we fall down we rob 
the girls of ninety years from now of a beautiful heritage. Dare 
we do it? Dare we take from those other Abbot girls that which 
has been so much to us? Xo; we cannot. May we ever be 
worthy to call our own this Abbot, the Abbot that we love! 

We are all welcoming home from France our personal friends 
and seem to forget the terrible, long months of war when we see 
these "boys" again. But in our own personal happiness we 
ought not to forget a friend of the school who went across to 
help the boys whom we know. For Abbot has been well repre- 
sented at the front by a trustee of the school. Mr. Markham W. 

Mr. Stackpole went to France early in the war as a chaplain 
in the American Army and he was there until the armistice was 
signed. In doing the work of a chaplain, Mr. Stackpole has been 
doing one of the hardest, yet the most necessary, of the many 
things to be done overseas. Through everything an army 
chaplain must be patient and cheerful. He must keep high the 
morale of the men. It is not necessary to say that Captain 
Stackpole has been greatly successful in his work, and comes 
back with a rich experience. 

Without the work of the army chaplains and the Y. M. C. A., 
all the strategy- of the generals, and all the diplomacy of states- 
men would have been useless — their work was to keep before 
each boy individually the purposes of the war and the high ideals 
for which we were fighting. Without this personal attention to 
the soldiers themselves the whole body of the army would have 
collapsed. While we rejoice in the return of our friends, we must 
realize that they are unchanged and cheerful not entirely by their 
own effort, but by the steadfast courage and determination to 
win that these army chaplains have given them. And Abbot is 
rightly proud that she has had a representative in France so well 
able to show what we all are trying to live up to here at Abbot. 



Since the influenza we have had the epidemic habit. Things 
came in waves. At Prom time it was marcels; at Easter, capes of 
many effects, although of one business-like color — that of the 
navy. Now come the joys of childhood, and one by one, blushing- 
ly or boldly, according to temperament, we wander back to the 
days of socks and dancing school — via the barber shop — and 
appear with bobbed hair. This necessitates the blithe behavior 
of a five-year-old ; so perhaps, after all, Spring is not responsible 
for the recent gamboling and frisking of light-hearted Abbot girls 
on the pleasantly spring-like Abbot campus. 

We are living at the present time in a crisis in the history of 
the world. We have now behind us long ages of suffering and 
bloodshed. But we are to decide in the next few months whether 
this slaughter is to go on indefinitely or is to give place to a peace 
that will live, to a peace belonging to every man individually, not 
to a kingdom or an empire, to a peace to be used for the welfare 
of each man, not as a period of preparation for the next war. It 
is for such a peace that our brothers have fought in France and it 
is for us to give it to them. 

But however fine the terms of this compact are, and however 
great the ideals of the men who sign it, this treaty will be as 
nothing if the people of the future are not ready to take up the 
work where we leave it. The only way by which to leave this 
message with the men and women of the next generation is 
through the children now in our elementary and high schools. 

Thousands of the boys and girls of New York City come to 
the city high schools every day under the Compulsory Education 
Law. These are mostly foreigners, anarchists, and atheists. 
They do not know what they want except that it is something 
different from that which is starving them and their families now. 
In place of a better idea they have accepted Bolshevism. Led on 
by the narrow-minded followers of Trotsky and Lenine they are 
converted completely to the principles of destruction. Teachers 
who are conscientious and patriotic try to show these young 
Bolshevists the terrible results of anarchy; but the pupils refute 
their arguments by invectives that will stand no idle contra- 
diction, arguments brought from Germany and Russia. Many 



an excellent teacher has handed in his resignation because his 
class has maintained a steadfast opposition to the purchase 
of Liberty Bonds and Thrift Stamps. 

The only way to bring about the needed change is to have 
instructors who understand their pupils and can gain their 
respect by having the courage of their own convictions. You 
may say, "Why, I can't teach; I'm not a scholar." But you are 
wanted; as surely as there is a call for missionaries to teach the 
heathen Christianity, there is a call for strong men and women 
to teach the boys and girls of New York City the right way to 
freedom. If you do not want to see this country a second Russia, 
it is for you to lead on the boys and girls who are to take up the 
work of peace where we leave it. 

Now that the war is over and we are returning to normal times 
again, we ought to consider the question which is on the lips 
of many lovers of hockey at Abbot. Why can't we have a new 
hockey field? 

Possibly the greatest reason why we need a new hockey field is 
because of the greater esprit de corps which would be added to the 
school. Since our present field is several yards under size and 
of a very uneven surface, some girls object to going out for this 
our greatest sport. It is true that without the necessary instru- 
ments or apparatus it is hard to succeed in a profession, or to get 
real benefit from an undertaking. It is the same way in recrea- 
tion; with a hilly hockey field which is too short, the girls can't 
get the most good out of hockey. 

An objection which will be raised against the field will be the 
expense. That is quickly put aside when we consider that two 
years ago a Hockey Fund was started by the girls, and that 
now there is more than eight hundred dollars in the bank waiting 
to start work on our new field. Two thousand dollars could 
easily be raised by the girls who are here now and by those who 
loved hockey when they were here, and this would certainly be 
enough. For example, at Radcliffe a short time ago, a field was 
laid out for nine hundred dollars. At Milton, for only two thou- 
sand dollars a splendid athletic field was made out of a pasture. 
This field includes a hockey field, a football field, and a baseball 



diamond. Surely a contractor could be found somewhere who 
could make us a field for a reasonable price. So we see that it 
isn't a case of lack of funds. 

Every other year the Abbot girls go to Bradford to clash on 
the hockey field. Is it really fair that our girls should have such 
a disadvantage? Bradford has five wonderfully laid-out fields. 
Shouldn't we have one good one? The answer given to this argu- 
ment is that we don't go to Bradford to win the game. It isn't 
right; we do go to win. Competition is one of the greatest things 
in the world, and we couldn't get along without it. Of course, 
to win the game isn't everything — not at all — but to have the 
real true sportsman spirit we should at least have a chance to 

The ninetieth anniversary brings forth many memories and 
much gratitude, and together with that which has long been 
known and expressed comes occasionally an appreciation of 
something newly discovered. For instance, we have all been 
thankful for Miss Chickering in one way or another, and we 
have all had involuntary gratitude for basketball; but we have 
never connected the two. And yet twenty years ago, this school 
had no Miss Chickering, and only a feeble imitation of basketball. 
Imagine the horror of Miss Chickering, Bryn Mawr graduate, 
but still more important, member of the star Bryn Mawr basket- 
ball team, when she arrived at Abbot Academy, and witnessed a 
basketball game down by the old oak! A puzzled crowd of girls 
clad in long and voluminous skirts were tremblingly kicking 
the basketball about, under the direction of a young "Theologue" 
who had kindly volunteered to coach. In the background on the 
fence hovered the youth of Phillips Academy, watching vvith 
interest and, one fears, ironical applause. And the member of 
the star Bryn Mawr basketball team saw, gasped, and set to 
work to instruct, encourage, coach, and properly clothe that 
team, and in the course of five years made basketball what we 
now know. The teams of today should be profoundly grateful 
to the first basketball coach. 

Is there not a tendency now to neglect the smaller courtesies 
of life? I wonder how many of us are thinking of the comfort of 



other people before we think of our own enjoyment or ease. We 
are now living in the low-water mark of manners. In the last 
four years we have been working strenuously and earnestly for 
the cause of humanity, and we have been working so assiduously 
that our manners have been lost in our pursuit of other things. 
Moreover, while we are polite and thoughtful on special occasions, 
how about our everyday lives? Is not our family life as impor- 
tant as our social life? Emerson says that a beautiful form is 
better than a beautiful face; a beautiful behavior is better than 
a beautiful form: it gives a higher pleasure than statues or 
pictures, it is the finest of the fine arts. 

Here at Abbot we live in a little world of our own, and our 
means of knowing what is going on in the outside world is through 
the newspapers. We have seen the war through the newspapers, 
and now we are trying to find out about the great after-war 
problems through the same medium. Trying vainly, we fear. 
Reports are spread, denied, re-corroborated. Headlines are 
misleading. Imagine the condition of our minds as we con- 
scientiously read the newspapers and believe everything we read ! 

Education consists of so many things. We are proud, we of 
the present day, and feel ourselves on the way to being educated. 
We not only comprehend Civics, and can penetrate to the depths 
of the mind after Ethics — or is it Psychology? — nor yet is 
Latin, even unto hexameters, our only talent. We proclaim it 
aloud — we can sew! Our Seniors have spent hours for House- 
hold Sciences over the baby dresses that comprise all conceivable 
kinds of sewing. They tell us so themselves with a just pride. 
We should be utterly awe-stricken were it not that we little 
lower classmen have done a few things in that line ourselves. 
Witness the pink and lavender and yellow organdies, the giddy 
plaids of trim ginghams, the tilt of organdie hats. Needles 
and clever fingers have been busy and successful lately, and the 
results are enchanting. 

We are most fortunate this spring to be able to have an exhibi- 
tion of Joseph Pennell's war lithographs at the John- Esther Art 



Gallery. During this war the artists of this and other countries 
have done much to create a great tide of helpful public opinion 
by their patriotic posters, cartoons and lithographs. Joseph 
Pennell has made about one hundred large lithographs recording 
our industrial, military and naval preparations. The exhibition 
here includes his Fuel and Food Series, British War Work and 
American War Work series. Lithography, which has been used 
so much during this war, is a most interesting process. A design 
or drawing is made on a grained stone with a greasy crayon or 
upon polished stone with ink in such a way that impressions may 
be made from them. The principle upon which it is based is the 
antagonism of grease and water. These lithographs of Joseph 
Pennell 's are not only extremely interesting, but they are very 
beautiful drawings. 

£fye ninetieth Clnnipersary 



Allegro ......... Handel 

Minuet Handel 

Sarabande ......... Zahn 

Professor Ash ton 


The Founding of Abbot Academy 

Miss Bailey 


Rev. Charles H. Cutler, D.D. 

Sung by the Alumnae and Students of Abbot Academy 


Mrs. Edith W ynne Matthison Kennedy 
Viola from "Twelfth Night" 

Act [, Scene 5 
Act II, Scenes 2 and 4 
Juliet from "Romeo and Juliet" 

Act II, Scene 2 

ORGAN INTERLUDE — Scherzo Rousseau 

Professor Ashton 

Mrs. Kennedy 
Portia from "The Merchant of Venice" 

Acc III, Scene 2 
Rosalind from "As You Like It" 

Act III, Scene 2 
Act IV, Scene 1 

Scbool 3ournal 



12 Chapel. Miss Bailey: Uselessness of Leadership unless it is for service 

14 Senior- Middle Sleigh-ride. 
18. Concert. The Longy Club. 

Chapel. Rev. Charles R. Brown: The necessity of love and kindness 
in life. 
21 Senior-Middle play. 

25 Hall Exercises. Miss Chickering: Territorial questions before the Peace 


House-warming of the Draper Homestead. 

26 Chapel. Miss Bailey: The revival of religion through the spirit of love. 
30 Mid-year examinations begin. 


1 Abbot Luncheon at Hotel Vendome, Boston. 

2 Chapel. Rev. Clark Carter: Labor Conditions in Lawrence. 

3 Senior trip to Intervale. 

4 Day scholars are guests of Miss Kelsey at dinner. 
6 The Seniors return. 

9 Chapel. Dr. John Timothy Stone: Neglect not the gift that is in thee. 

1 1 Skating at Pomps Pond. 

12 Lincoln Day Celebration. Reading by Miss Morgan. 

15 Concert. Felix Fox and Adeline Packard. 

17 Miss Pendleton: The Value of Intellectual Curiosity. 

21 Phillips Promenade. 

21-23 Washington's Birthday recess. 

23 Chapel. Miss Sears: The Americanization Work in Lawrence. 

25 English V plays presented. 


1 Abbot Dance. 

2 Chapel. Miss Bailey said a few words in memory of Miss Elizabeth 

Tyler, a former member of the Abbot faculty. 

4 Violin recital given by Edna Dixon, assisted by Ethel Dixon. 

8 Concert. Mrs. Hudson Alexander. 

9 Chapel. Miss Wiggin: Work of the Consumers' League. 
11 Senior play. 

14 Lecture. Dr. Kenyon: The Emotions. 



15 Lecture. Dr. Kenyon: The Emotions. 

16 Chapel. Miss Bailey: A short prayer meeting. 
Northfield meeting. 

20 School closes for spring holidays. 


3 School begins. 

4 Vesper Service. Miss Bertha Harlan. 

6 Chapel. Miss Bailey: Opportunities for immortal life on earth. 

8 Violin recital. Miss Nichols. 

9 Vesper service. Miss Bertha Harlan. 

13 Chapel. Miss Mabel Emerson: The Significance of Palm Sunday. 
15 Plays written by members of Odeon Society. 
18 Vesper service. Miss Harlan. 
20 Easter Service. 

Rev. Ralph Harlow: Conditions in Turkey. 
23 Ninetieth Anniversary of the founding. Mrs. Edith Wynne Matheson 

Kennedy: Interpretation of Shakespeare's Heroines. Reception. 
25 Parade of the 26th Division in Boston. 

26. Chapel. Dr. Robert E. Speer: The Deepening of Religion in our 

Miss Bailey spoke at the New York Abbot Club. 


1 May Breakfast in Town Hall. 

2 Exhibition by classes in Rhythmic Expression. 
4 Mrs. Otis Carey: Japan. 

7 Trip to Nahant by Geology Class. 

Trip to Wellesley by girls who are going there next year. 

10 Recital of Moliere's play, "L'Ecole Des Maris", by Madame Bing. 

11 Chapel. Rev. J. Edgar Park: My Experiences in Army Camps in this 


13 Miss Means spent the night at school. 

14 American History class goes to Boston. 
Senior-Middle banquet. 

Senior class invited to tea by the Bradford seniors. 

15 Miss Amelia Tileston: War work in Serbia. 

17 Hall Exercises: Recital by the Vocal Department. 

18 Chapel. Miss Bailey: The Call of God. 
Organ recital. 


The Commencement Exercises will be held from June 8 to June 10. 

The baccalaureate sermon will be preached by Rev. David Brewer Eddy of 
Boston, and the commencement address by Rev. Paul Revere Frothingham, 
of Boston. 



The Draper readers are: Joyce Gertrude Graham of Spring Green, Wis- 
consin; Katherine Olivia Kinney of Albany, New York; Elizabeth Stewart of 
Chicago, Illinois; Martha Elizabeth Morse of Kewanee, Illinois; Catherine 
Greenough of Dallas, Wyoming; Elinor Katherine Sutton of Andover, Massa- 


Ruth Evelyn Alley 

East Lynn 

Elizabeth Armstrong 

Buffalo, New York 

Kathryn Atkins Beck 


Marea Miller Blackford 

Findlay, Ohio 

Ethel May Bonney 


Mary Ethel Brewer 


Gretchen Baker Brown 

West Somerville 

Marion Chandler 

New Gloucester, Maine 

Louise Rice Clement 

Belfast, Maine 

Katharine Spellman Coe 

New York City 

Charlotte Harvey Copeland 

Newton Centre 

Margaret Hamilton Dane 

Kennebunk, Maine 

Catherine Hancox Danforth 

New London, Connecticut 

Helen Aldrich Dole 


Jennie Marr Dunaway 

Virginia, Illinois 

Cora Jeanette Erickson 


Dorothy Elliott Evans 


Grace Murdock Francis 


Gladys Mildred Glendinning 


Harriette Harrison 

Lakeville, Connecticut 

Ruth Carter Hathaway 

North Wilmington 

Grace Myra Kepner 

Monett, Missouri 

Doris Knights 


Dorothy Beulah Korst 

Janesville, Wisconsin 

Grace Harriet Leyser 

New York City 

Thelma Elizabeth Mazey 

Newark, Ohio 

Virginia Edwards McCauley 

Canandaigua, New York 

Elizabeth Caldwell Newton 


Marian Maude Nichols 

Hampton, Virginia 

Dorothy Shapleigh 


Dorothy Stibbs 


Dorothy May Williams 

Scranton, Pennsylvania 

Edith Elizabeth Wright 

Moline, Illinois 

Helen Thornton Wygant 

Newburgh, New York 


Gertrude Bowman 

Albion, Illinois 

Gwendolen Bossi 

North Adams 

Mary Vail Button 

Brandon, Vermont 



Margaret Fuller Clark 

North Andaver 

Irene Fulton Franklin 


Mildred Harriet Frost 


Margaret Thornton Greeley 

Nashua, New Hampshire 

Eva Josephine Hamilton 

Toledo, Ohio 

Jane Carpenter Holt 


Muriel Archibald Johnson 

A ndover 

Helen Dorcas King 


Helen Turnbull Locke 

Chenchow, Hunan, China 

Gertrude Louise Lombard 


Elisabeth Middleton Luce 

Shanghai, China 

Mary Frances Martin 

Warner, New Hampshire 

Marion Gladys Merrill 

Portland, Maine 

Frances Moses 

A ndover 

Hazel Kathreen Noyes 

Chestnut Hill 

Nadine Elizabeth Scovill 

Waterbury, Connecticut 

Julia Elizabeth Sjostrom 

North A ndover 

Gertrude Ellen Stark 


Eleonore Kimbel Taylor 

New KocneUe, New York 

Dorothy Morrison Tyler 

Newburgh, New York 

Margaret Eliza Worman 

Westport, New York 


Geraldine Murray 

New York City 

Caroline Pease Richardson 

Janesville, Wisconsin 

Harriet Burt Sanford 

Glen Ridge, New Jersey 


On Wednesday afternoon, February the twelfth, Miss Bertha Morgan gave 
a reading in the McKeen Rooms. She read "He Knew Lincoln," by Ida 
Tarbell. By her wonderful interpretation she made Lincoln seem real to us and 
we felt as if his presence dominated the room. We acquired a great deal of 
knowledge about Lincoln's character and personality and realized more than 
ever before how great a friend he was to everyone. We shall always be grateful 
to Miss Morgan for the pleasure she gave us and for bringing Lincoln closer to 

On Monday evening, February seventeenth, President Pendleton of Wel- 
lesley College spoke to us in Davis Hall. Her subject was, "The Value of 
Intellectual Curiosity." She said that it was curiosity that enabled one to 
learn and that it was at the bottom of all the wonderful inventions in science 
and of all the great things in the world. Intellectual curiosity is of great value 
to us, not only in our school life but at all times, as it increases our knowledge 
and develops our resources. 



The next morning President Pendleton gave a short address at chapel on 
"Why Go to College?" Her talk was so convincing in regard to the oppor- 
tunities of college work and college life that the girls who were undecided 
whether to enter college or not now decided to go if they possibly could. 

Miss Harlan, secretary of the Northfield League, led three of our Lenten 
services. She chose as her subject, "How Christ Affects Us in Our Everyday 
Life." Her three talks were given under the headings, "Jesus as a Friend," 
"Jesus as a King," and "Jesus as Rabbi." 

Wednesday, April 23rd, Abbot simultaneously celebrated its ninetieth 
anniversary, and the three hundred and fifty-fifth birthday of William Shakes- 
peare. We were fortunate in having with us that day Mrs. Charles Rann 
Kennedy (Edith Wynne Mattheson) who more than ever impressed us with the 
lovableness of Shakespeare's heroines in her dramatic readings from "Twelfth 
Night," "Romeo and Juliet," "The Merchant of Venice," and "As You Like 
It." Dressed in flowing, shimmering draperies of blues, greens and browns, 
veiled with gold, Mrs. Kennedy nevertheless looked and was each of the four 
most beloved and very different heroines: a wistful, deeply devoted Viola; 
a Juliet all youth and innocence and love; a Portia of strength and also of 
submission; and a Rosalind that became more and more one of our favorite 
characters. After the delight of the afternoon we realized that we knew Shakes- 
peare better than ever before, also Mrs. Kennedy, and above all the spirit of 
all womanhood for which she stood. 

Mrs. Charles M. Fletcher, who as Miss Sally Utter was the gymnasium 
teacher in this school for a few years, has just returned from France where she 
has been engaged in important war work. She was here for a few days in April 
and spoke to us one morning in chapel. She told us a great deal about her 
experiences in the hospitals near Brest. Her work was to massage and to help 
the convalescing soldiers who had lost the use of their muscles. She had a fine 
idea of the spirit and courage of our American boys and made us feel proud of 

We were all very glad of an opportunity to hear Madame Suzanne Bing 
read one of Moliere's plays. She chose "L'Ecole des Maris," and although we 
didn't understand it very well, her interpretation was so fine that we couldn't 
help feeling as though we really did understand the French. Before she began 
to read, Madame Bing told us a little about the work of the Theatre du Vieux 
Colombier in New York. This theatre has been presenting the best kind of 
French plays to the American public, in order to give the Americans a real idea 
of the spirit of the French. Madame Bing, in reading to us, gave exactly what 
she has been playing in the city, so that we felt as though we had heard her in 
Paris. All through the play she gave us an interpretation which made us forget 
that she was speaking in a foreign language. 



Miss Amelia Tileston, who is Miss Chickering's cousin, spoke to us in chapel 
on May fifteenth. Miss Tileston has been in Serbia for the past two years 
doing important work among the soldiers. She cared for many wounded and 
rendered valuable service in numerous ways. She told about the Albanian 
retreat and of the horrors accompanying that retreat and then of the famous 
charge of the Serbians, which resulted in the glorious victory over Bulgaria 
last October, and caused that country to seek an armistice. She kept close 
behind the army and went through the devastated country. She was very 
enthusiastic about the Serbs, with whom she has been constantly, and said that 
Bulgaria's defeat was due largely to the courage of the Serbian army. We all 
gained a great deal of knowledge about the Balkan States, and feel as if we 
understood them better. Two hundred and thirty dollars was raised in the 
school and given to Miss Tileston for Serbian relief work. 


The first concert in our annual course was a recital given January eighteenth 
in Davis Hall by the Longy Club of Boston. This ensemble consists of six 
foundation instruments of the symphony, the flute, clarinet, bassoon, oboe, 
violin and cello. M. Longy himself, is an artist of international repute with 
his own instrument, the oboe, and the other members of the club are all well- 
known as musicians of the first order. This concert, besides being a most de- 
lightful musical treat, gave us an unusual opportunity to study individually 
instruments that were little known to us, so that we can now listen to the sym- 
phony with more intelligent and appreciative pleasure. 

On Saturday afternoon, February fifteenth, it was our privilege to hear a 
recital given by Mr. Felix Fox, the noted pianist, assisted by Miss Adeline 
Packard on the viola. Miss Packard is well-known in Boston, where she does 
much ensemble work. Her tone is rich and true and her interpretation, es- 
pecially of the Lefebvre Caprice and La Chambor d'Hervelois, was most 
interesting. As an accompanist Mr. Fox was sympathetic and able; as a 
soloist he showed himself an accomplished musician. His rendering of the 
Chopin and Lizst numbers was unusually effective. 

A concert that we enjoyed perhaps more than any other was Edna Dixon's 
recital on March fourth. We have all heard Edna play many times before, 
but until we heard her for a whole evening we didn't realize what possibilities 
were in our midst. Each number was exquisitely done and the whole program 
carried out with skill and understanding. Ethel Dixon, besides accompanying 
the violin, gave two selections on the organ that were very cleverly interpreted. 
Abbot is justly proud of her two musicians and hopes to hear more of them in 
the future. 



On Saturday afternoon, March eighth, Mrs. Hudson Alexander, assisted by 
Mr. Hugh Alexander, gave us a recital in Davis Hall. Her program opened 
with two groups of songs by Americans of the Revolutionary period which have 
been recently discovered and harmonized by Mr. Harold Milligan of New York 
and Mr. Samuel Endicott of Boston. These songs are of great interest, as they 
prove that there was music both written and sung by people of this country 
at that time. Mrs. Alexander also sang skillfully a number of other more 
modern songs by foreign writers and altogether gave us a most enjoyable 

We always look forward with great expectation to Miss Nichols' recital and 
we are never disappointed. This year she came to us on April eighth and gave 
us an unusually interesting and varied program. We liked every number but 
were especially delighted with the Wienawski Tarantelle and an odd little 
Irish jig by Scott, for whose peculiarities Miss Nichols felt it necessary to 
apologize. The whole evening was most delightful and we hope to hear Miss 
Nichols again next year. 

On Saturday afternoon, May 17th, a recital of Miss Bennett's pupils, as- 
sisted by Glee Club and the String Quartet, was held in Davis Hall. We always 
await this occasion with expectation, for it is a unique pleasure to hear a con- 
cert given entirely by our own schoolmates. This year we were surprised by 
the presence of several new voices on the program besides those that we knew of 
old. The Glee Club, with its usual life and vim, and the String Quartet added 
much, and altogether the afternoon was a great success. 


The Senior Middle Class presented "The Elopement of Ellen" by Marie J. 
Warren in Davis Hall on Tuesday evening, January twenty-first. 

The cast : 

Richard Ford, a devoted young husband, . . . Paulina Miller 

Molly, his ivife, Catherine Greenough 

Robert Shepard, Molly's brother, Hope Allen 

Max Ten Eyke, a chum of Robert, Virginia Miller 

Dorothy March, engaged to Max, a guest at Mrs. 

Ford's Martha Morse 

June Haverhill, Wellesley, '06, who is doing some 
special investigation for economics courses during the 

summer • 

John Hume, rector of St. Agnes, 

Directed by: Bertha Everett Morgan 
Stage Manager: Leonore Wickersham 
Property Manager: Catherine Greenough 

Edna Dixon 
Julia Abbe 




Ellen, the much-prized maid of Mrs. Molly Ford, a young and inexperienced 
housekeeper, elopes with the coachman on the eve of the arrival of two guests, 
Max Ten Eyke, a chum of Molly's brother Bob, and Dorothy March, his 
fiancee. This leaves Molly in a very awkward position, as she has boasted to 
Dorothy of her capable maid and excellent housekeeping. Her husband 
telephones to the labor bureau and they promise to send out a new maid at 
once. She arrives that morning and encounters Bob, who immediately recog- 
nizes her as June Haverhill, an old friend. She explains that she has been doing 
some special investigation for her economics courses at Wellesley and had 
applied to the employment bureau for practical work, never dreaming she 
would be sent to a place where she is known. She starts to leave, but Bob 
persuades her to stay, since he is the only one who knows her. 

All goes well until Max Ten Edye comes upon the scene. He had been in 
love with June and she had refused him; but he now thinks that she has under- 
gone a change of heart and is masquerading in this way in order to be near him. 
He thinks he is still in love with June; but he feels that he cannot break his 
engagement with Dorothy March, as only on condition of his marrying her will 
she inherit a large fortune. In a quarrel with Dorothy he finds that she has 
agreed to marry him only because by so doing he will inherit a fortune. When 
each finds out that the other is agreeing to the engagement through a sense of 
duty, they decide to break off the relationship. Max then finds a note express- 
ing love and devotion in extravagant terms and signed "J. H;" which strength- 
ens his opinions regarding June's feelings. June, however, disclaims all know- 
ledge and it develops that the letter was written to Dorothy by John Hume, 
the amorous young rector of the parish. Max and Dorothy finally realize 
that they love each other after all, and June and Bob become engaged to the 
great delight of the romantic-souled Molly and her devoted husband. The 
employment bureau sends word that it has found a new Ellen and with every- 
one satisfied, we are led to believe they lived happily ever after. 

Edna Dixon as June Haverhill gave a perfect portrait of the best type of 
modern college girl. Her acting of the part was bright and natural and we 
were delighted to discover that even make-up could not hide the dimples. 
Catherine Greenough as Molly was the most charming of young matrons and 
quite won our hearts; and as for Martha Morse as Dorothy! We can only say 
that we felt in kindred spirit with the young rector when he gasped at sight of 
her, "Aurora!" 

Hope Allen, Paulina Miller and Virginia Miller as the gentlemen of the play 
all succeeded remarkably well in earning difficult parts and deserve much 
credit for their clever acting. Julia Abbe as the sentimental rector made the 
part as humorous and delightfully ridiculous as only Julia could. 

Much of the success of the play was due to the skilled coaching and tireless 
efforts of Miss Morgan, and the class of 1920 deeply appreciate her interest and 
sympathetic, effective work in their behalf. 

The annual English V one-act plays were given this year in Davis Hall on 
Tuesday, February 25th, and were much enjoyed, judging from the evening's 
enthusiastic audience and the next day's appreciative comments. "An Affair 
of Family" by Grace Kepner, and "The Patched Cloak" by Elizabeth Arm- 
strong were the plays chosen for presentation. Their own decided merit, and 
the excellent acting of the girls taking part — for which we offer thanks and 



appreciation to Miss Howey, the coach of both plays — and the music provided 
by Edna and Ethel Dixon and Mary Martin, all made us very proud of our 

The casts and plots were as follows: — 

AX AFFAIR OF FAMILY, by Grace Kepxer 

Scene — Summer Home of Hunnewells 

Time — The Present 
Mr. Herbert Hunnewell, a wealthy business man Ruth Hathaway 

Mrs. Huxnewell, his wife Elizabeth Newton 

Mrs. Winthrop Lowell, his sister . . . Elizabeth Stewart 

Bobby Lowell, her son Bertha Worman 

Betty Lowell, her daughter Dorothy Fisher 

Richard Johnson, a young business man . . Helen Locke 

Mr. and Mrs. Hunnewell are still deeply grieved over the loss at sea some 
years before of their only son, a boy of about fifteen, but are nevertheless, 
deeply interested in the love affair of Betty Lowell, their sister's daughter, 
and a rather unknown but prepossessing youth, Richard Johnson. The sister, 
Mrs. Lowell, is much incensed at the affair, for the young man is of an unimpor- 
tant and even unheard-of family, and Mrs. Lowell is a snob. But the uninten- 
tional exertions of her small son Bobby and a relation of his vaguely remem- 
bered past by young Johnson discover him to be Dick Hunnewell, who was 
thought drowned. This established social position renders Mrs. Lowell sudden- 
ly affectionate and amenable, and Betty and Dick and the world in general 
are left pleasantly happy. 

In the taproom of an Elizabeth tavern sit two lads shining tankard? 
disinterestedly, and talking with animation of the chivalrous Sir Walter 
Raleigh, and the glory of a life on the open sea. When left alone, Dickon, the 
more romantic of the two, acts out with his patched cloak, the scene, as he had 
witnessed it, between Sir Walter and Queen Elizabeth, but is interrupted by 
the appearance of a charming lady in distress, whose tale of a cruel brother's 
pursuit stirs Dickon's chivalry deeply. He sets her, disguised as a barmaid, 
to shining tankards, and when an impatient and handsome nobleman enters 
he persistently refuses to betray her, until a threatened blew from the irate 
young lord makes her reveal herse'f. As the ardent Sir Hugh and capricious 
Lady Joan talk to, at, and against each other, Dickon learns of their true 
relationship, he an impassioned lover, she wilful, yet almost willing, and of 
their wager whose price is her kiss. He considers himself used as a tool, and 
is enraged. However, it develops that his chivalrous protection of Lady Joan 

THE PATCHED CLOAK, by Elizabeth Armstrong 
Scene — An Elizabethan Inn 


Dickon, the tapster 
Sam, the hostler's boy 
Sir Hugh 
Lady Joan . 
The Laxdlord . 

Martha Stockwell 

Gwendolen Bossi 

Anna Hussey 
Carol Pen-in 
Eliza Bailey 



has won him the kiss. In sudden embarrassment, and under strong pressure 
from the young nobleman, he sells the kiss for service under Sir Hugh and a 
home and happiness for his mother, to whom he swiftly runs. Half afraid, 
Sir Hugh claims the kiss, which is paid petulantly enough — on his forehead. 
His despair melts her, and under the protection afforded by the presence of the 
landlord who blunders in, she answers him as he wished — with her love — 
and the curtain goes down, leaving Sir Hugh about to be satisfied, and the 
audience already very much so. 

The Senior Class presented their annual play this year, "A Midsummer 
Night's Dream", on Tuesday evening, March 11, in Davis Hall. It was so 
exceedingly well done, the costumes so attractive, the dancing of certain 
rhythmic Seniors so graceful, and the music of the trio and Glee Club so 
effective that the audience found itself transported to a Shakesperian fairyland, 
and watched "enacted the misadventures of four lamentable lovers, and the 
humours of Bottom the weaver," as the Old English programs pleasantly 

The action never dragged for a moment and the acting was vivid and 
interpretive, keeping the large audience continually charmed and laughing. 
Miss Morgan is to be congratulated for the successful result of her careful 
coaching, and also Miss Adams, who coached the dancers. 

Among the mortals, Elizabeth Armstrong as Lysander was a low- voiced, 
passionate lover of a sweetly childish Hermia, Ruth Alley, and a lovely scorned 
and scorning Helena, Helen Wygant. Eleonore Taylor made a charming blonde 
Demetrius. Theseus and Hippolyta looked on graciously, but Egeus was more 
disturbed — poor, distracted parent! The impromptu performers coached by 
Doris Knights as Quince were so splendid that words fail. Quince's shrill- 
voiced directions, the love troubles of Pyramus and Thisbe (Charlotte Cope- 
land and Elizabeth Wright) as assisted by their companions, and the other 
troubles of Bottom amused us immensely. 

The fairy band, led by a lovely, shimmering king and queen, and dominated 
by the most bewitching and light-footed of Pucks, were so entirely sprite-like 
that our childhood belief in fairies revived in full force. 

"The love we bear our master, gentle William Shakespeare" — again the 
program speaks — and the love we bear our Seniors, made the evening a 
thoroughly pleasant one. 


Cast of characters in the play: — 
Theseus, Duke of Athens . 
Egeus, father to Hermia 

Jennie Marr Dunaway 
Marian Nichols 
Elizabeth Armstrong 

Eleonore Taylor 
Katharine Coe 
Doris Knights 
Cora Erickson 

Philostrate, master of Revels in Theseus 

Quince, a carpenter 

Snug, a joyner 

Bottom, a weaver 

Charlotte Copeland 



Flute, a bellows mender Elizabeth Wright 

Snout, a tinker Ruth Hathaway 

Starveling, a tailor Louise Clement 

Hippolyta Grace Leyser 

Hermia Ruth Alley 

Helena Helen Wygant 

Oberon, king of the fairies Marea Blackford 

Titania, queen of the Fairies Grace Kepner 

Puck, a sprite Josephine Hamilton 

Peaseblossom ] Dorothy Stibbs 

Cobweb ! Fairies Margaret Clark 

Moth Marion Chandler 

Mustardseed J Dorothy Evans 

First Fairy Dorothy Korst 

Clowns /Thelma Mazey 

\ Ethel Bonney 

Fairies attending Titania: D. Stibbs, M. Clark, M. Chandler, 

D. Evans, D. Korst, D. Shapleigh. 
Fairies attending Oberon: E. Newton, H. Harrison, M. Greeley, 

C. Richardson, N. Scovill, E. Sjostrom, M. Brewer. 
Attendants to Theseus and Hippolyta: M. Dane, K. Beck, G. 

Brown, M. Johnson, G. Francis. 
Athenian Ladies: E. Luce, G. Glendinning, I. Franklin. 

On Tuesday evening, April 15, we had a great pleasure in the presentation 
by the Odeon Society of two one-act plays, "A Homespun Romance" by a girl 
of the Hindman School in the Kentucky mountains, and "Experience" by 
Mildred Frost, a member of Odeon. Again we were very proud of our girls, 
both in the very entertaining little play from among those written by the 
Society and in their clever acting, the coaching of which Miss Howey and Miss 
Marceau kindly and successfully undertook. 

Odeon has been quietly doing fine work this year in the various ways 
afforded by one-act plays, stories and poems. It has also established an interest- 
ing precedent in beginning a leather-bound book which contains the type- writ- 
ten work of the Society last year and this year, and is to be continued for five 
years, thus forming the foundation of an Odeon library of accomplishment. 

Between the two plays Dorothy Williams sang two ballads of the Ken- 
tucky Mountains, "Sourwood Mountain" and "The Little Mohee". These 
were quaintly humorous, the music delightful and full of repetition, and we 
loved them. 

The casts and plots of the playlets were these: — 

Prologue by Josephine Hamilton 

Granny Sal Martha Morse 

Rebecca Baxter Mildred Frost 



Mrs. Tally, Ben's mother Elisabeth Luce 

Eliza Jane Charlotte Vose 

Aunt Maria Perkins Eleonore Taylor 

Ben Tally Kathreen Noyes 

This little play shows simply and intimately a scene in the daily life of the 
mountain whites. A little love story between Ben and Becky, and the incessant 
conversation of visiting Aunt Maria Perkins are the chief events about which 
the picture of mountain life was arranged. The playlet deepened our interest 
in the fine work of this school. 

Martha Morse made a realistic and rheumatic Granny Sal; Eleonore 
Taylor charmed us with her everlasting prattle; Mildred Frost and Kathreen 
Noyes quarreled and made up pleasantly as the young farmer and his sweet- 
heart, and Elisabeth Luce and Charlotte Vose added atmosphere in their 
respective parts, all to our great satisfaction. 

"EXPERIENCE", by Mildred Frost 

Stuart college chums Kathreen Noyes 

Rodney Martha Morse 

Polly, Rodney's sister Mildred Frost 

Virginia, Rodney 1 s fiancee Josephine Hamilton 

Aunt Minnie Eleonore Taylor 

In this sprightly comedy, Stuart, in despair over his inability to propose to 
Polly in spite of his adoration of her, is helped out by her brother Rodney; 
this youth giddily tries April Fool jokes on the two with the unconscious 
assistance of Aunt Minnie, to whom he makes Stuart make love. The resulting 
confusion is finally calmed by Stuart's desperate and public avowal of his 
love for Polly, and the play ends with the two pairs of lovers happy, Rodney 
self-congratulatory, and Aunt Minnie ruminating — from experience — on 
man's proposals. 

Kathreen Noyes and Martha Morse made two strongly contrasted and 
engaging young men, whose respective inexperience and sophistication kept 
us perpetually amused. Mildred Frost and Josephine Hamilton were the 
most delightful of sisters and fiancees and Eleonore Taylor made a charm- 
ing and experienced Aunt Minnie. 

The proceeds of the two plays, over fifty dollars, went to the Hindman 
Scholarship Fund of Abbot Academy. 

Hfyytfymtc (Expression 

On a Friday in May we were very glad of an opportunity to see what had 
been done in the Rhythmic Expression classes all through the year. A formal 
pageant was not given, but the classes went through their regular every-day 
work. First those of the girls who had studied it most did the technique, 
which was very simple. After the technique the development, from the bears 
stumbling through the forests to Apollo driving his fiery chariot across the 



skies, was shown. And as a final dance two girls represented Alpheus and 
Arethusa. The remarkable thing all the way through the exhibition was the 
absolute lack of self-consciousness with which most of the girls danced. It 
was a pleasure to see how beautifully they could get into the spirit of the 
dancing. Indeed it seems as though the audience, too, was in the spirit of it. 

fjonor Holl 

FIRST SEMESTER, 1918-1919 

Virginia Miller 94 

Julia Abbe 92 

Elizabeth Flagg, Paulina Miller, Martha Morse 91 

Elisabeth Luce 90 
Kathryn Beck, Dorothea Flagg, Beatrice Goff, Gertrude Lombard, 

Dorothy Moxley, Marian Nichols, Natalie Page, Elinor Sutton 89 

Katherine Damon, Ruth Hathaway, Helen Locke, Helen VVygant 88 

THIRD QUARTER, 1918-1919 
Julia Abbe 93 
Virginia Miller 92 
Ruth Hathaway, Martha Morse, Marian Nichols, Natalie Page, Elinor 

Sutton 90 
Kathryn Beck, Beatrice Goff, Helen Locke, Elisabeth Luce, Paulina 

Miller 90 
Elizabeth Armstrong, Dorothea Flagg, Elizabeth Flagg, Elizabeth 

Newton, Carol Perrin, Elizabeth Stewart, Susannah Welborn, 

Frances Thompson 89 
Eliza Bailey, Anna Davidson, Josephine Hamilton, Gertrude Lombard, 

Dorothy Moxley, Nadine Scovill 88 

3tems of (general interest 

We are all interested in Miss Pooke's "adventures". In writing to Miss 
Bailey she says: — 

"Greetings from this most lovely city of France! Oh! it is so wonderful 
everywhere I look that I count myself most fortunate that my work holds me 
here for a month at least, and perhaps longer. Have you guessed it is Paris? " 

Of her landing in France she says: — 

"On landing at Brest we went immediately to headquarters and were 
informed that General Pershing was within, so we waited outside en masse 
(being looked over at the same time by all the inhabitants) and were soon 
rewarded by his coming out and speaking to us. It was all most exciting." 

Of Brest she writes: — 

"Such a picturesque place as Brest is, such quaint Breton costumes, queer 
streets and wonderful sights in every direction. I immediately longed for 



paints and brushes. There was a picture every way I turned and on the trip 
on the train that afternoon I was fairly enchanted." 

Of her own work she says: — " I found I had arrived in Paris at exactly the 
right moment. They are launching an enormous Fine Arts Department and 
it was just two weeks old when I appeared and this is what I have to do. 
With two other girls we are opening up atelieis at the base hospitals in Paris. 
We go through the hospitals and find the men who are interested in sculpture, 
painting, drawing, architecture, interior-decoration, city-planning, etc., open 
up an atelier and so the men are able to keep up with their work as at home. 
.... And do you think we are busy? The men simply come in crowds 
and work from morn until night, perfectly thrilled. . . . They want girls 
to do this first work. They can get the men to start better than men can. 
Isn't it odd? We were told that the hospitals had been canvassed and no one 
was interested. We went around and have found so many interested by 
talking with individuals that we have much ado to find room for them." 

In May Miss Bailey spoke in New York to the Abbot Club at their annual 
meeting. She spoke on May 15 to the freshman class at Wellesley on the 
subject of Teaching as a Profession. 

Miss Means spent a night at the school early in May, and we had a pleasant 
visit one afternoon from Charlotte Root Patton, who has been making a 
month's visit in the East with her baby daughter, Margaret, the other two 
little girls staying in Detroit with their father. 

On Lincoln's birthday a flag was presented to the school in memory of Mrs. 
Draper's birthday. 

During Miss Robinson's illness Miss Anne Brooks of Athol took charge of 
her classes. 

In order to arouse an interest in photography this spring there has been a 
prize offered for the most artistic and beautiful snapshot. All have been invited 
to join the contest and it is hoped that many very beautiful and interesting 
pictures will be offered. 

The first boy to enter the Great War from the town of Andover was Norman 
McLeish, who was working at Abbot Academy. He was only sixteen then and 
ran away from home to enlist. He returned in April in his kiltie, with a 
campaign stripe on his coat, having been in active fighting both in Flanders 
and Salonika, and for many months in a Malta hospital with malaria. 

Mrs. Alden has recently given the school two very interesting collections 
made by Mr. Alden, for so many years a trustee of Abbot, — one of the different 
stages in the preparation of flax, the other to illustrate some of the products 
made by the distillation of coal, prepared by Mr. Alden with great care and 
used by him in connection with his very interesting lecture on coal-tar products. 

From the estate of Mrs. Sarah N. Carter there has come to the school an 
interesting collection of coins made by Dr. Selah Merrill. They are mostly 
copper coins of about 400 A.D., — a few of them Turkish of a later date. 

We are very grateful to Miss Mills for the offer of two Artist Proof en- 
gravings. These are of the "Marriage at Cana" by Paul Veronese, and the 
'Transfiguration" by Raphael. 



The Boston Abbot Club has made a gift to the school of $15.00. 

A very interesting recent gift to the school is from Mrs. Pierson Page of 
Andover — a very large and valuable chronological chart of ancient, modern, 
and Biblical history, with maps of the world's great empires and all kinds of 
useful historical information picturesquely presented. 

Miss Gertrude Sherman has for several months been teaching French in 
the Springfield High School. 

Since last January Miss Runner has been working at the International 
Institute in Paterson, New Jersey. She is one of two workers with the Italian 
immigrant women and is most enthusiastic about it all. 

Miss Margaret Elliott, who since February has been working for the Child 
Labor Bureau of the Department of Labor, received orders in March to proceed 
to Spartanburg, S. C, to form part of a field party which is engaged in a study 
of southern children between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, which is the 
period at which the Child Labor Law is applicable. Miss Elliott was doing 
the work of a mental examiner, giving simple mental tests to the children to 
supplement the work of the doctors. 

Miss Adele Martin, teacher of Latin, 1916-17, has been in Y.M.C.A. work 
as extension secretary in Roanoke, Va. Her brother was first lieutenant in 
Infantry service overseas. 

Since February, when Miss Goodwin was obliged to resign because of illness, 
Draper Hall has been in charge of Miss Frances Augusta Wheeler of South 
Weymouth. Miss Wheeler was at one time the social secretary of the Con- 
gressional Club in Washington and has recently been head of one of the Smith 
College houses. 

atretic Holes 

Owing to bad weather we were unable to hold our field day on May 21, as 
was planned, but the various contests were played off during the following 

In hockey, the Senior-Middlers and Juniors defeated the Seniors and Junior- 
Mids by a score of 5 to 2. 

In basketball they were also victorious with a score of 10 to 9. 

The tennis tournament was won by Elizabeth Wright, who defeated Elinor 
Sutton in the finals with the score of sets 6-1, 3-6, 6-2. 

The cup was won this year by the classes of 1920 and 1922 by a score of 
30 to 20. 

An exhibition of military drill was also scheduled for field day but was given 

alumnae IRotes 

There was a large gathering of Abbot girls at the mid-winter lunch of the 
Alumnae Association and Boston Abbot Club, many old girls being present 
who had not been back for several years, notably Mrs. Otis Cary from Japan, 
whose husband is having a year's furlough, Mrs. Darling, the new president 
of the Alumnae Association, and Mrs. Mary Beal Stephenson of 
Duluth. Miss Means, who is president of the Abbot Club, presided, and 
interesting addresses were given by Mrs. Darling and Miss Margaret Elliott, 
Mrs. Darling about her was work among the soldiers at Hampton, Virginia, 
Miss Eliott of her work as manager of the women's department at the Water- 
town Arsenal. Miss Bailey gave what everyone was very glad to hear, the 
latest news from Abbot Academy. 

1858. Mrs. Henrietta Hamlin Washburn was knocked down by an auto- 
mobile and seriously injured, in the winter. Both hips were broken, one a 
bad fracture; but aided doubtless by the characteristic Hamlin will-power, she 
has recovered sufficiently to sit up, and may yet be able to walk about. Her 
son, Dr. George Washburn of Boston, who went to Turkey shortly before 
the accident as a member of the relief commission, is expected home soon. 
Her grandson, Arthur H. Washburn, is teaching in Phillips Academy. 

1858. A pleasant letter has recently been received from Mrs. Emma 
Stowell Bartlett, now living in Duxbury, of whom nothing had been known 
for many years. She was one of a group of four sisters who were in school for 
several years from San Francisco. She has been brought in touch with the 
school again through Miss Charlotte Swift, 11858, of Andover, who is always 
very thoughtful about reporting news of former pupils. 

tl868. Mrs. Harriet Abbott Clark's son, Eugene, has recently been 
advanced to a full professorship in German at Dartmouth College. 

fl868. Olive Higgins Prouty, who is a well-known writer of short stories 
and books, is the daughter of Mrs. {Catherine Chapin Higgins of Worcester, 
who is active in the work of the Parent-Teachers Association. "The Star in 
the Window" is perhaps Mrs. Prouty s best work. The Sew York Tribune 
speaks of her "fine spirit of realism and the wholesome tales of human life, as 
interesting as life itself should always be". 

fl874. Mrs. Belle Wilson Pettee, who is in the United States on furlough, 
with her husband, spent the winter in Illinois, but hopes to attend the reunion 
of her class in June. Dr. Pettee was recently given a reception by his Dart- 
mouth classmates at the Christian Endeavor headquarters in Boston. Among 
those present were the husbands of at least two Abbot girls, Harriet Abbott 
Clark and Lizzie Whitcomb Adriance. 

fl876. Mrs. Harriet Chapell Newcomb and her daughters, Ruth W., tl910, 
and Cornelia C, 1 19 17, have the sympathy of a large circle of Abbot Academy 
friends in the death of Mr. Newcomb on May 10. 



+1877. Mrs. Ellen Emerson Cary, who is on furlough in this country, has 
spoken at the Boston Abbot Club and to the girls at the Academy where she 
spent the week-end of May 4. Her daughter, Alice, is engaged in work for 
refugees in Siberia with the Red Cross. 

fl877. Mrs. Sarah Bird Harris's son, Henry, was second lieutenant in the 
76th Infantry, and Arthur had the same rank in the Ordnance Department. 

tl878. Ellen Conant Stinson's oldest son, Daniel Chase, member of the 
U. S. Marine Corps, was killed in action last June. He was reported missing 
and it was many months before her suspense was ended by a comrade's testi- 
mony as to his death. A memorial service was held February 16, in Roxbury. 

1884. Dr. and Mrs. Cornelius H. Patron (Pauline Whittlesey) left 
Boston on May 8 for a six months' tour in the East, visiting mission stations in 
Japan, China, and possibly India. Dr. Patton represents the American 
Board of Foreign Missions in this part of a world survey now being carried on 
by the Interchurch World Movement, one of the most remarkable under- 
takings of the age. Mrs. Patton is identified also with good works at home, 
and is well known in Massachusetts as the able president of the Woman's 
Home Missionary Association of the Congregational Church. 

11887. Rev J. B. Lewis, husband of Olive Pearson, has been called to the 
pastorate of the Congregational Church in East Longmeadow. 

1888. Mabel Paradise Barnard's son, Foster, took the course at the 
Cambridge Radio School and is third class electrician on sea duty. 

1891. Mrs. William C. Miller (Alice Fleek) was secretary of the Red 
Cross in Newark throughout the war, and this spring in recognition of her 
invaluable services a dinner was given her by the Red Cross Society, at which 
she was presented with a very beautiful watch. 

11897. Frances Hinkley Quinby's husband was welcomed with great 
rejoicing by the Phillips Academy boys on his return to Andover in May after 
his year overseas. His work since the armistice has been at a great physical 
instruction center, teaching the French our methods of directing army games. 

11899. Man.- Ryder has been appointed teacher of English in the Elm- 
hurst, Long Island, High School, which is in the New York City school system. 
She has been teaching for some years in a much larger school in Newark, 
and enjoys her new work very much. 

tl900. Man." Morgan Norwood of Baltimore did some efficient war work 
as chief clerk in the office of the Food Administration of Maryland, with sixty- 
five clerks under her. Her husband was assistant steel constructor in the 
naval sen-ice and her brother sen-ed as physician in France. 

tl901. Evelyn Carter received a government appointment in a Washington 
hospital in January, soon after completing her course in occupational therapy. 

11905. Frances Cutler has been teaching in the department of English at 
Simmons College, and expects to study at Columbia University next year. 

tl907. Harriet Chapman has been teaching for several years in the public 
schools of Avon, Mass. 

tl908. Esther Parker has gone to France with the Y.M.C.A. She is 
doing canteen work near Chaumont. 



fl909. Louise Norpell Meek has been in New York in the employ of the 
Y.M.C.A. War Work Council. She expects her husband and two brothers 
back from France and Italy shortly. The former, a major in the 1 1 2t h Field 
Signal Battalion, has had three years of army life and has recently been 
decorated for bravery. 

fl909. Edith Van Horn Matson has moved to Perry, New York. 
1909. Mrs. Jarvis sent the sad news of her daughter, Edwina Jarvis 
Keithley's, death from pneumonia in her far-away North Dakota home four 
days after baby Eleanor's birth. Little Virginia is only two years old. 

fl910. Mira B. Wilson has been giving a course of lectures at Boston 
University this year on the Psychology of Adolescence, and has also been an 
instructor in community schools in Boston and Lynn for the training of 
Sunday School teachers. 

fl910. Edith Flynn's husband, Ensign Joseph A. Bain, was killed by an 
explosion in the navy yard in New York on May 2. They had been married 
only a year. 

fl911. Dorothy Bigelow has been elected president of Student Government 
at Miss Bouve School, and Marion McPherson (t 19 18) vice-president. 

fl911. Rev. Fletcher Douglas Parker, husband of Katharine Ordway, 
preached twice in Andover this spring, once at the chapel and once at the 
South Church. Mr. Parker has recently been appointed Boston City Mis- 
sionary, succeeding Dr. Waldron. 

1911. Ruth Niles Thompson has a little daughter named Elizabeth 

fl912. Faith Draper has been nursing in the Base Hospital at Camp 
Meade, Md., and expects to be sent in an organizing unit to Fort Oglethorpe, 

fl913. Esther Pickles has been helping at the International Settlement 
of the Y.M.C.A. in Lawrence. 

fl913. Laura Northey Marland is at Jackson College and has won the 
Goddard Prize for a Political Science thesis, the Alpha Xi Delta Prize Scholar- 
ship, and the Phi Beta Kappa key. 

fl913. Marion Gould Smith has been assisting Rev. Clark Carter in the 
Lawrence City Mission this year. Her husband is still on duty in Germany. 

fl913. Margaret Wilkins has been spending some months in the Panama 
Canal Zone with her father, Brigadier-General Harry C. Wilkins, U.S.A. 

1913. Ada Brewster is in the graduating class of Simmons College. 

1914. Hildegarde Gutterson was married on January 30 to Dr. Judson 
Smith, and a few days later sailed with him in a large party under the auspices 
of the American Commission for Relief in the Near East. The news of almost 
unbelievable need in Turkey makes it a great satisfaction to have the school 
represented in this far-reaching reconstruction movement. Hildegarde has 
followed the example of her mother, Emma Wilder Gutterson, of the class of 
1874, who went to India soon after her marriage. 

fl914. Helen E. Gilbert sailed for France on the Manchuria in March as 
Y.M.C.A. girl, and has been in charge of a Y.M.C.A. hut in Chaumont. 



fl915. Marion Hamblet, Patty Williams, Arline Talcott, and Muriel Baker 
are in the graduating class at Wellesley. 

fl916. Katharine Odell is graduating this June from Miss Neil's Kinder- 
garten Training School in Boston. 

fl916. Agnes Leslie has changed from Wellesley to Barnard College. 

fl916. Ruth Lindsay has been working this winter in the Andover Savings 

fl916. Marion Selden has been chosen one of the juniors to carry the ivy 
chain at Commencement at Smith. 

fl916. We are sorry to report the death of Eleanor Frary's brother, 

1916. June Perry is taking a nurse's training course at the Newton 

1 1917. Mildred Gilmore Paegel's address is now Mrs. Horace A. Paegel, 
1779 Irving Avenue South, Minneapolis, Minn. 

1 191 7. Mary E. Wuichet was appointed in January a teacher in the home 
economics department of the Dayton public schools. 

fl917. Carita Bigelow had a prominent part in the Sophomore play at 

11917. Hilda Temple graduates in June from the Skidmore School of Fine 
Arts in Saratoga Springs, N. Y. 

1 1917 . Gertrude Goss and Margaret Mitchell are graduating this June 
from Miss Bouve's School. 

fl918. Clarissa Horton is recovering from a serious operation for appen- 

fl918. Emmavail Luce was Queen of the May at Wellesley College. 
1918. Esther Milliken has been studying with Miss Bennett this winter 
and sang at the recital of Miss Bennett's pupils in May. 


Mrs. Mary Beal Stephenson, fl892, Mrs. Annis Spencer Gilbert, fl889, 
Mary Church, fl917, Norma Allen, fl915, Miss King, Miss Pettingell, Emma- 
vail Luce, f!9 18, Mary Jepherson, fl918, Emma Stohn, fl916, Eugenia 
Parker, fl916, Mrs. Fanny Fletcher Parker, fl872, Bertha Birtwell, 1909, 
Winona Algie, fl900, Mrs. Caroline Sanders Wilkinson, 1892, Anna I. Nettle- 
ton, fl893, Charlotte Hardy, fl898, Mrs. Sally Utter Fletcher, Elisabeth 
Bartlett, fl914, Katherine Tougas, 1917, Clara Jackson Hukill, fl907, Charlotte 
Root Patton, Miss Means, Miss Elizabeth Chadbourne, fl878, Margaret 
Van Voorhis, 1917, Louise Bacon, fl918, Dorothy Pillsbury, fl916, Martha 
Grace Miller, |1918. 


|1906. Carr-Mackintire. — Persis L. Mackintire to Mr. Homer Denison 
Carr of Middletown, N. Y. 

fl916. Josephine Walker to Mr. Edgar Foster Woodman of Concord and 



fl916. Esther Van Dervoort to Mr. Maurice Wilton Howe. 
1918. Lois Gaudreaux to Ensign Ralph C. Lowes, Jr., U.S.N. , of Peoria, 


fl899. Young-Childs. — In Brattleboro, Vermont, November 25, 1913, 
Ruth Wentworth Childs to Mr. Ernest C. Young. At home, 390 Riverway, 

11908. Wilbur-Eyer.— In Los Angeles, California, April 26, 1919. 
Marguerite Knowlton Eyer to Mr. Van Rensselaer Gideon Wilbur, Jr. 

1909. Farnsworth-Mills. — In Brookline, April 26, Helen Holmes 
Mills, daughter of Helen (Holmes) Mills, 1884, to Lieut. Charles Edward 
Farnsworth, recently returned from aviation service in France. 

1910. Sherman-Hendricks. — At Madison, Wisconsin, June, 1916, 
Gertrude Winnifred Hendricks to Mr. James M. Sherman. 

1913. Atkinson-Temple. — In Andover, June 23, 1918, Ruth Tripp 
Temple to Mr. George S. Atkinson. Address, 213 WTiite Street, Hartford, 

1913. Ellison-Knox.— In Bradford, February 22, 1919, Alice Safford 
Knox to Mr. Pierce Brentwood Ellison. 

fl914. Smith-Gutterson. — In Cambridge, January 30, 1919, Hildegarde 
Gutterson to Dr. Judson Smith. 

tl918. Wyeth-Holmes.— In Boston, January 22, 1919, Elizabeth R. 
Holmes to Lieutenant Roy E. Wyeth, Canadian Army. 

fl904. In Chicago, February 6, 1919, a son, Newell Eddy, to Mr. and Mrs. 
John Wilson McCabe (Laura Parker Eddy). 

fl906. In Portland, Oregon, March, 1919, a daughter to Mr. and Mrs. 
Hudson Bridge Hastings (Rena Porter). 

fl907. In Ashland, Kentucky, September, 1918, a daughter, Hilda, to 
Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rodgers Peebles (Hilda Seaton). 

|1908. In New York City, January 12, 1919, a daughter to Mr. and Mrs. 
James B. Cheney (Marion Cole). 

fl909. April 19, 1918, a daughter, Doris Rice, to Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin 
Dwight Miller (Gladys Perry). 

1909. In Fargo, N. D., February 7, 1919, a daughter, Eleanor Spencer, 
to Professor and Mrs. J. R. Keithley (Edwina Jarvis). 

1910. In Andover, April 16, 1919, a son, Frank, Jr., to Mr. and Mrs. 
Frank O'Brien (Dorothy Dole). 

fl913. March 8, 1919, a son to Mr. and Mrs. Ercell A. Teeson (Marion 

1913. February 18, 1919, a daughter, Cornelia, to Mr. and Mrs. Lynmont 
Albion Trumbull (Hazel Norcross). 

fl914. In Asbury Park, New Jersey, May 8, 1919, a daughter, Marie 
Winsor, to Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Franklin Appleby (Marie Estell Winsor). 




In Sedan, France, February 21, 1919, Elizabeth Stearns Tyler. 

1855. In Summit, N. J., March, 1919, Ellen Silvester, wife of the late 
Peleg Wadsworth, M.D., of Maiden. 

1855. In South Boston, February 4, 1919, Mary Nichols, for many years 
a teacher in the Bigelow School. 

1855. In Wolfeboro Falls, N. H., May 14, 1919, Mrs. Oliver P. Berry 
(Mary L. Rea). 

1859. In Gloucester, October 29, 1916, Mary J. Lowe, wife of the late 
Charles E. Parkhurst. 

1864. In Brockton, April 8, 1919, Ella Frances Southworth, "known to 
hundreds of people because of her philanthropic work". 

1866. In Newark, N. J., May 11, 1919, Jessie Emerson, widow of Mr. 
George H. Taylor, who was the son of Dr. S. H. Taylor, former principal of 
Phillips Academy. Her only surviving child, Harvey, could not be with her 
in her illness as he is in Italy serving under the Y.M.C.A. 

1866. In Constantinople, Turkey, January 3, 1919, Abbie Frances 
Hamlin, wife of Professor Charles Anderson of Robert College, and daughter 
of Henrietta (Jackson) Hamlin, 1829. She went to Turkey in 1888 and ha* 
been engaged in missionary work there ever since. 

1867. April 24, 1919, Helen Cummings Allen of Peabody. 

1869. In Brockton, April 12, 1917, Ellen F. Blanchard, wife of Abbott 
YY. Packard. 

tl876. In New London, Conn., on May 10, 1919, Frederic Seymour 
Newcomb, husband of Harriet W. Chapell, tl876, and father of Ruth New- 
comb, f 1910, and Cornelia Newcomb, tl917. 

1886. In Brookline, March 16, 1919, Mary A. Ripley, wife of Rev. Frank 
R. Shipman. 

1898. In Lawrence, April 12. 1919, Helen Stanley, wife of Mr. Irving 
W. Sargent. 

1909. In Fargo, N. D., February 11, 1919, Edwina Jarvis. wife of Pro- 
fessor Joseph R. Keithley. 

1910. In Washington, D. C, July 24. 1918. Gertrude W. Kendricks 
(Mrs. James M. Sherman). 




Mary Ripley Shipman was the daughter of Colonel George Ripley, long a 
trustee of the school, and of Mary Aiken Ripley, of the class of 1854. She 
married Rev. Frank R. Shipman, who was for twenty years pastor of the 
South Church of Andover. She died in Brookline on March 16, after an 
illness of several years. 

It would be hard to tell just what was the rare quality which made Mary 
Shipman's life mean so much to her friends. Perhaps it was her ready smile, 
her quick responsiveness and sympathy, her keen wit and deep perceptions. 
But surely it was her joyous, buoyant spirit — so generous, so fine — her 
indomitable courage. And there was in her too the strength, the dignity, the 
peace that comes from a sure faith — the faith of one who had learnt 

"With an eye made quiet by the power 
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, 
To see into the life of things." 




June 10, Tuesday 

School year ends 

Summer Vacation 

September 17, Boarding students register before 6 p.m. 
September 18, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
November 27, Thursday 
December 18, Thursday, 12 m. 

Fall term begins 
Thanksgiving Day- 
Fall term ends 

Christmas Vacation 


January 7, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
January 8, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
January 31, Saturday 
February 2, Monday 
March 25, Thursday, 12 m. 

Winter term begins 
First semester ends 
Second semester begins 
Winter term ends 

Spring Vacation 

April 7, Boarding Students register before 6 p.m. 
April 8, Thursday, 9 a.m. 
June 8, Tuesday 

Spring term begins 
School year ends 

Abbot Academy Faculty 

BERTHA BAILEY, B.S., Principal 

Psychology, Ethics 


Physics, Chemistry 

History, English 

Literature, History of Art 




History, Librarian 








Spanish, Latin 

Biology, Household Science 

Physical Education 

Rhythmic Expression 

Vocal Expression 

Pianoforte, Organ, Harmony 





Vocal Music 





Drawing, Painting 

Substitute for Miss Pooke 


Secretary to the Principal 

Supervisor of Day Scholars 

In charge of Draper Hall to January, 1919 

In charge of Draper Hall January, 1919 

In charge of Draper Hall 

Assistant to Miss McLean 

Assistant in charge of the cottages 

Resident Nurse 

Keeper of Alumnae Records, Andover. 

* On leave of absence from January, 1919. 






















School Organization 

A. C. A. 


Kathreen Noyes 
Elisabeth Luce 
Hope Allen- 
Helen Wygant 

Representative Committee of Student Council 

Cora Erickson Edith Elizabeth Wright 
Grace Leyser Kathreen Noyes 
Marian Chandler Edna Dixon 
Katherine Coe Janet Warren- 
Elisabeth Luce Ethel Dixon 

Ruth Hathaway 

Fidelio Society 

President ...... Charlotte Copeland 

Vice-President ..... Catherine Danforth 

Secretary and Treasurer .... Grace Leyser 


Kathreen Noyes 
Mildred Frost 
Elisabeth Luce 
Eleonore Taylor 
Julia Abbe 

Catherine Greenough 

Martha Morse 
Charlotte Vose 
Elsa Baalack 
Margaret Clark 
Florence Matile 
Josephine Hamilton 

AtKletic Association 

President Edith Elizabeth Wright 

Vice-President Ruth Hathaway 

Secretary Virginia McCauley 

Treasurer Mary Martin 

Glee Club 


Virginta McCauley 
Dorothy Williams 

Class Organization 

Senior '19 

President Katharine Coe 

Vice-President ..... Elisabeth Luce 

Secretary Mildred Frost 

Treasurer Ethel Bonney 

Class Motto: "Duty, Service, and Sacrifice" 
Class Flower: Rose Class Colors: Rose and filver 

Senior Middle 20 

President ....... Catherine Greenough 

Vice-President ...... Hope Allen 

Secretary Edna Dixon 

Treasurer ...... Helen Thiel 

Class Motto: "Carry On" 
Class Flower: American Beauty Rose Class Colors: Dark Green and Red 

Junior Middle '21 

President . . . . . . . Elizabeth Weld 

Vice-President ...... Ethel Dixon 

Secretary Marianna Wilcox 

Treasurer Frances Gasser 

Class Flower: Violet Class Colors: Purple and White 

Juniors '22 

President Jane Baldwin 

Vice-President ...... Katherine Damon 

Secretary Lois Kirkham 

Treasurer ...... Frances Thompson 

Class Flower: Sunburst Rose Class Colors: Blue and Silver 

Alumnae Association 

Mrs. Mary Gorton Darling 


Mrs. Elizabeth Nichols Bean Mrs. Ellen Chamberlain Blair 

Mrs. Josephine Richards Gile Miss Josephine Wilcox 
Mrs. Rebecca Davis Spalding Miss Emily A. Means 

Secretary and Treasurer 
Miss Agnes Park 

Assistant Secretary 
Miss Jane Brodie Carpenter 

Committee on Appropriations 
Miss Bertha Bailey Miss Agnes Park 

Mrs. John Wesley Churchill 

Photographs of Distinction 

A fine portrait should be artistic 
as well as a good likeness — it 
should be a work of art and at 
the same time look like you. 
A Bachrach photograph is distinc- 
tive because it accomplishes this. 

Cout0 Jflabtan Sarijrarlj 

Worcester Springfield 
Providence Hartford 

New York Philadelphia 
Baltimore Washington 


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English Glove Shop 


9 Temple Place, Boston, U.S.A. 
EXCLUSIVE GLOVES for Men and Women 


Kodak and Photo Supplies Expert Bicycle Repairing 

H. F. CHASE .'. Andover, Mass. 


Reid & Hughes Company 

We Specialize on 

Ladies* rveady-to-wear Goods 
Full Line of Outer and Under Garments 
Ribbons, Laces, Millinery and Art Goods 

We cheerfully Refund Money When Our Merchandise 
Does Not Please 



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Goods Stored, Packed and Shipped 


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Mixed Feelings 

I am glad and I am sorry 
And I've so mixed up the two, 
That I can't tell when I'm happy 
And I can't tell wehn I'm blue. 
For my days at dear old Abbot 
Are fast drawing to a close 
When I leave it all behind me. 
What I'll feel like goodness knows. 

For you see I've been at Abbot for about five years and so 
I'll be really mighty lonely when it does come time to go, 
For I've had such good times here. 



{:l Novelties and specialties for every athletic sport 

Golf and Skating Costumes. Sport Suits 
for Country" and City Wear. Imported 
Sweaters. Stockings. Shoes. Scarves, etc. 

Catalogue on Request 



J. H. PLAYDOX. Florist 



Store. Arco Building . . . Tel. 105-3 
Greenhouses. Frye Village . Tel. 109-11 

Please Mention Abbot Academy When Puxchaslng 

Telephone 78 



Sporting and Mufti Dress 

For Every Occasion 
13-15 Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 

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To be sure I've done some work 

But it's been fun in the doing, 

And one doesn't like to shirk 

So you see at last I'm finishing 

And all the folks I know 

Call these days the happiest of my life 

And they are flying so ! 

As now I leave behind me such full and happy years. 
I don't seem to be worrying of past or future fears, 
But my one prayer at going is that one day I may be 
Really worthy of the treasure that my years here gave to me. 

R. C. H. 


Myerscough & Buchan 

Telephone 208 

Main Street - - Andover, Mass. 


T. F. MORRISSEY & SON, Proprietors 



Carriages and Hacks for Funerals, Weddings and Receptions 
Depot Work a Specialty 


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Louis Huntress 

Andover, Mass. 

Will offer special inducements 
for Abbot Students during win- 
ter term. Ask to see the samples 
made especially for students 



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All kinds of FRUIT in their season 




the individuality and artistic designs of our novelty jewelry. Your school 
letters or personal initials mounted on any piece. 

Prices are most reasonable considering the high quality of workmanship 
and material employed. 

Most acceptable gifts for birthdays or commencement. 

Send for Catalogue 


Official Jeweler for A. A. Class Rings 

Compliments of 


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Insurance Service 


Insurance Offices 


Indemnity for Every Class 
of Insurance Coverage 

Fire and Life 

Use and Occupancy 

Sprinkler Leakage 





Merchandise in Transit 
Mail Package 
Registered Mail 
Samples and Baggage 
Art Exhibitors' 

Live Stock 

Marine Insurance 
Accident and Health 
Burglary and Theft 
Plate Glass [tion 
Workmen's Compensa- 
Employers' Liability 
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Teams Liability 
Doctor's Liability 
Druggists' Liability 
Public Liability 
Landlords' Liability 
Fidelity & Surety Bonds 

Live Stock — Mortality 
in Transit 

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Musgrove Bldg., Andover, Mass. 


Successors to W. F. RUTTER & CO. 

Steam, Water and Gas Piping 
Supplies and Tools 





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There is nothing new under the sun. 
Even the birds 
Learned how to sing 
Before we did. 

But at least we have more variety, 

Which is gratifying. 

One bird always sings the same song, 

Or if not he is supposed to. 

But one girl, even though she does sing 

The same song 

Most of the time, 

Changes the song every few days. 

And it isn't always ragtime. 

She frequently chants the alto 

Of a Fidelio classic, let us say. 

And sometimes the martial strain 

Of a well -loved hymn 

Floats forth. 

But in Springtime she loves especially 

The music of former days, 

And estatically, reminiscently 


(To her ukulele) 

The love songs of 1911. 

P. C. M. 


Gloves Hosiery 
Silk and Muslin Underwear 
Neckwear Shirtwaists 


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